Wishful Thinking
by Oponn
Summary: When two people think about something so much, can they make it happen?
1. Telekinesis

Claire Bennet lay in the dark with her legs tangled in the sheets.

The heat from the summer outside seeped into the room and made it a hotbox, trapping her in its inferno. She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling, wishing feverently for something to think about so she didn't focus on the mental image of her skin melting and becoming one with the mattress.

Lying in bed at night was the hiccup in her life. During the day, under the eyes of the sun, her life was chaos. Pure and uncontrolled chaos. Lies, deceit, monitors. Threats around every corner. So many people vying for control and power, but no one powerful enough to seize it.

And yet, at night, she lay in her bed and listened to the crickets and the distant churning hum of the motor in the neighbour's backyard fountain. This was the pothole in her life. She had nothing to think about in these silences and they stretched on forever.

Her mind leapt from Peter, to her father, to her bio-dad. To orange jumpsuits and careening planes. Frustrated, Claire sucked in a breath of hot air and focused her eyes on the stucco ceiling. She willed herself to think of something normal.

Boys. Clothes. Shoes.

What was normal?

She pressed her head back into the pillow and squeezed her eyes shut, figuring she'd just think about the first thing she thought about when she opened her eyes. It worked last night when she spent two hours staring at a pair of sunglasses she'd never worn and wondering where they had been made. Her dreams had taken her to Mexico.

She counted to ten, and threw her eyes open and they landed on a lava lamp in the corner. The red lava in it looked like blood in a jar in the light.

Claire looked at it intently, studying the colour. She'd never seen so much blood that it looked black, until it had been her own. Of course, at the time she hadn't really been thinking straight, having Sylar's fingers probing inside her brain. He wasn't really rough. Very gentle and clinical, talking calmly to her in a smooth voice. His fingers had been cold, like ice.

She struggled to remember the words he said to her, but they were as evasive as her memories of being born. She remembered what he smelled like, because her nose had picked it out of all the other smells in the house for weeks.

He had smelled like soap, and something deeper. Muskier.

With his fingers in her brain, Claire had been pretty much paralyzed, watching her blood pool around her and wondering how her body coped with blood loss. Did she have a hyper drive option in her marrow?

Sylar's fingers.

So much power stemmed from them. He merely had to twitch them and invisible forces ploughed into her like a truck, crushing her or pinning her. She had no idea how many powers really resided in that brain, how many strengths and talents he had robbed from other's craniums. How many skulls he'd cracked.

How many people had simply given into the blood loss.

Those fingers, which could pin, crush, hold, choke, cut, sever, stroke, caress.

Such power.

Telekinesis was a power he could play with, a power he should play with. What she would do with that power highlighted exactly why her molecules had not evolved to GIVE her that power.

Stroke, caress, lift, move.

_He was looking at her with the same emotionless interest, inches from her face. Up close, his eyes weren't the black pits of death they looked like from a few feet away. Weapons of intelligence, studying and thinking and dissecting. _

_Medium brown with dark brown around the ring, these eyes were lined with lashes as black as the heavy eyebrows that loomed above them._

_Claire glanced around, blanching at the room. The lime green of the cheap hotel room clashed horribly with the brown carpet and mustard yellow bedspread and curtains. Everything had a slightly shellacked appearance._

_He studied her face with the same slightly sadistic smile on his face as he had when he was in her house. He cocked his head, locking gazes with her._

_"Cheerleader," He greeted cordially._

_"Sylar," Claire breathed back, her lips curling. The corner of his mouth twitched._

_"Power is a nice thing. A nice feeling. You feel it every time you jump in front of a bullet, don't you?"_

_"No."_

_"Oh, I think you do." He said with a wider grin, walking over to a vinyl chair the colour of baby sick. He sat in it and leaned back, looking at her with the same malicious grin. He stretched his lithe body out, long legs splaying casually on the floor. He crossed his arms over his chest._

_"What would you know? None of your abilities are actually yours. You're just a sociopathic thief."_

_He cocked his eyebrow and pursed his lips for a split second._

_"Possession is nine tenths of ownership, Claire."_

_"You don't own my ability."_

_"No. I understand it though. I understand you."_

_"You don't understand me. You understand no one but yourself." Claire spat back at him. He laughed to himself and stood up, taking two or three steps and invading her space. She tilted her head back and glared fiercely at him. The heat that rolled off his body hit hers in waves, making her cheeks heat and her fists clench. _

_She tilted her head back and glared up at him, her body straining towards his in a defiant stance. His mouth curled and he looked down into her face._

_"You like the power. The rush."_

_"No."_

_"Whenever you jump in front of a bullet, there's that part of you that smiles."_

_"No."_

_"When you feel your flesh burn in fires, there's a voice that cheers."_

_"No."_

_"Because you know that everyone else can die, but you. Nothing can save them, but you."_

_"No."_

_"They're weak, Claire."_

_"NO."_

_"You like knowing that no one is as invincible as you. But me."_

_"No. You're lying." _

_"That seems to be your motto." He mocked, stepping closer. She took a step back, her body silently moaning as she left his heat. She felt paralyzed under his gaze, her rage being diluted by how close he was. His scent invaded her senses, the smell filling her nose and choking her brain. _

_Clean, strong. _

_Her lungs seemed to only accept 20% capacity, and her chest pumped furiously as she fought to inhale anything but the smell of his skin and clothes. Her skin crawled hotly. _

_"Get away from me."_

_"Well. If you don't like your own power, it must be mine." He said smoothly, his voice like velvet. Claire mustered up a disgusted look, and shot it up at him. His eyes were dark, and his lips parted slightly. His gaze seemed to travel over her, burning holes in her skin._

_"N-no."_

_"Oh, yes. That's it isn't it? What I can do is what gets under your skin. And you like it. Do you like it? Do you like thinking about what I could do to you that you can't stop?"_

_"No, get -"_

_"Being attracted to such power is wrong, Claire. It's," He cocked his head again and his eyes slid down her chest and he smirked a little, "...dangerous."_

_Her face was burning like a hot pan, and she felt her breath catch and her body convulse slightly. _

_"Dangerous," She laughed breathlessly. "Like, you could do anything but try to kill me."_

_"Oh, that's right. You've only seen me toss people -"_

_Claire's arms and legs clamped together and she screamed as she was slammed down into the mattress, and then thrown across the room and plastered to the wall. _

_"- and hold them against walls." Sylar finished. Claire's breath whooshed out of her, and she looked at him across the room. His hand was raised and he had a wicked smile on his face. She felt trapped, and bound. She tried kicking her legs. _

_"And of course, I could cut off your head," He said proudly, raising his left pointer and drawing a straight line. Fire erupted on her forehead, and she screamed and struggled as blood dripped down over her right eye. _

_"NO. STOP IT."_

_"But I can do more than that. It may be damn near impossible to kill you, but there's more than one way to hurt you." He drawled softly, stopping the cut and crooking his finger. She was pulled from the wall and hurtled across the room, falling against his chest._

_Weakly, she splayed her hands out over his chest. He felt warm under her fingers, and she could feel his heart thrumming through his ribs. She shook slightly as his arm slid around her back, holding her against him. He was tall enough that the muscles of his thighs flexed against the tops of hers through their clothes. Her head barely reached his pecs, and he tilted his torso slightly to accommodate her weight. _

_He leaned down slightly, gathering her up and against his throat with his free arm._

_"There's a problem, though," he drawled from above her. She shivered as the sound of his voice echoed in his chest. He leaned down, and she could feel his breath in her ear._

_"You can't rape the willing, can you Claire?" He whispered._

_Goosebumps erupted painfully all over her body, and her nipples tightened and moved roughly against her bra as she gasped._

_Her arms were forced away from her body slightly and her legs pushed a shoulders width apart as he held her in the air. He prowled around her, examining her as she floated before him. _

_"Everyone needs a little bit of control. Not as many people like it though." Sylar murmured as he passed by her other ear. His fingers buried in her blond hair, and he lifted a couple locks to his nose. She struggled to control her heart._

_He studied her face, brown eyes washing over her green ones and a single finger tracing down her nose and out to her jaw. He trailed it down to her chin and down her neck. She felt three others join it, and he gently buried his face in her neck._

_His lips trailed softly, sealing burning kisses along the underside of her jaw. Claire's stomach knotted and she yearned to arch her head back and give him more. His fingers brushed over her collar bones, and down to the edge of her shirt to play with the tops of her cleavage. He hit the spot where her shoulder joined her neck and bit slightly before massaging it with his lips._

_Claire gasped and he raised his head, smiling smugly at her. She narrowed her eyes._

_He moved like a snake, swooping down and slanting his lips over hers. Her nerves pulsed and her flesh twitched as his fingers traced around the outside slope of her breast and her nipples ached through the bra and shirt. _

_Her brain fought to function, and he sucked her lower lip into his mouth. Suddenly, he pulled away and smirked at her, brown fighting against green. _

_"I don't like it," She spat with as much raspy voice as she could muster. She could taste him and from the way he licked his lips, he could taste her. _

_His fingers abandoned their trailing down her ribs and spiralled around her breasts before he pinched her left nipple between two fingers. Claire gasped, and his fingers teased and rolled the bud between them. _

_"Yes, loathing comes easy for you," He observed sarcastically._

_"Very." She ground out as his fingers teased and pulled and massaged. He smiled and tilted his head the other way. She couldn't hold in the shriek that jumped from her lips as her shirt shredded itself from her body. He managed to look surprise and raised his eyebrow._

_"Oops."_

_He stepped back slightly and his eyes devoured her skin, a grin dashing across his face as he touched the jewellery strung through her bellybutton. He wiggled it and made the barbell jingle. _

_"Nice touch. Does everyone have one of these?" He asked her and she hissed at him to shut up, focused more on the other hand that was swirling fingertips across the expanse of her back, winding tortuously down to her butt. Her muscles jumped and her nerves twitched, and his hands__skimmed over her hip bone. _

_"See, I can't help but notice the subtle rebellions you have. Running off with people, letting buildings blow up. Piercings, Claire? How very anti-conformist of you." He told her with a noticeable trace of scathing. She growled at him, jerking slightly as two fingers dipped below the waist of her jeans and tugged on the top of her underwear. _

_The button to her jeans__popped free, and the zipper slid down. _

_"It's amazing what I can do, isn't it?" Sylar asked her, meeting her eyes as her jeans slid limply down her legs and pooled beneath her dangling feet. She watched him shred her bra free of her body and it free fell from her shoulders and hit the floor. _

_"Kind ahh.." She trailed off, her mouth falling open as her nipple disappeared into his mouth. He watched her face as his tongue flicked back and forth over it and she bit her lip. _

_Everything between her thighs ached, and she could feel the slippery heat spilling from her. He released her with a soft pop, and began a quest leaving scorching marks down her belly and nipping at the skin on the inside of her hip. His teeth tugged gently at her underwear before skimming completely over it and kissing down the inside of her thigh. He paused and looked up at her. _

_"I can smell you Claire. Do you know what you smell like?" He asked her, fingers winding down over her butt cheeks and igniting the skin on the backs of her thighs. They spiralled and danced across her flesh, which shivered in their wake. They paused on the backs of her knees, grazing and tracing the skin and making her legs quiver. _

_"No," She gasped, struggling to breathe and not moan, even as her body longed for him to touch her. It pleaded with him to snap her underwear off and plunge into her. _

_"You smell...edible," He growled, biting the skin at the juncture of her leg and torso and making her jump. He kissed down her legs further, biting here and there as his fingers danced over her calves and down to her feet. Claire flexed her toes and a breathless moan escaped her as they traced the arches of her feet and his lips sealed over the bone on the inside of her right ankle._

_He moved back up her legs, and a force pushed them further apart. Claire fought against it, trying to close her legs as her core screamed for him. His fingers pressed against her sex through her underwear, probing the heat. She watched both hands grasp the sides of__her underwear and pull them down, sliding one foot free and letting it drop off the other and join her jeans. _

_"Tell me, Claire.," Sylar said thickly, his breath ghosting over her. Claire fought her breathing, her heart pumping furiously in her chest. He looked up at her and smiled with a lazy crooked lift to his mouth. _

_Gently, his fingers parted her, holding her open while his other hands explored, pressing down on a sensitive little nub. He carefully rubbed a circle around it and then on it, pressing down on her clit and making her whimper and her muscles jerk pleasurably. _

_"Do you like power?" He asked. She bit down on her lip, trying to arch her hips into his hand. _

_"No," She cried out, fighting against him. His fingers moved away, circling down and gently massaging away from where she wanted him. She groaned, and her head fell back._

_"What was that?" He questioned again._

_"Yes," She breathed__letting a sound of pleasure fall from her lips as he returned to her clit and continued moving wonderfully over it, pinching, pressing, tracing. _

_"Is it dangerous?" He quizzed hazily as her body clenched and she tried arching her hips up and making his fingers slip to where she wanted them to slide. He had a finger tracing the outside of her entrance, teasing her._

_"Yes," She groaned and then her body jerked slightly as his tongue touched her. He played with her, listening to her gasps and moans and the way her paralyzed muscles clenched and spasmed. _

_"This is an admission." He said and she grunted at the loss of contact from his mouth._

_"Yes. Sure. Yeah." She gasped, brain addled with sensation overload. One finger slid into her and Claire groaned loudly, her teeth biting her lip and then her mouth falling open. She tried rocking against his hand as it pumped slowly in and out of her. _

_She whimpered something, and he stood as his hands worked between her legs._

_"What's that?" _

_"M-m..."_

_"Hmmm?" _

_"More. Please, more." She broke, exhausted at trying to fight him. _

_"More," He echoed as he plunged another finger in tandem with the first. Claire keened and tightened around him, squeezing his fingers. Their breath slammed together as their faces hovered inches apart. His eyes were heavily hooded and Claire's body was coiled like a spring. _

_Her breath shook as his movements jammed her body. _

_"You know what?" She gasped._

_"More?" He replied with a hitched but sarcastic laugh. She arched her back at little and opened her eyes to look into his endless ones. _

_"You like having the power." She accused, punctuating it with a moan as her body started to tingle and a climbing feeling in all her nerves caused her body to shake. He laughed huskily, and her hand was forced against his crotch so she could feel the hard bulge pulse and burn through the pants. _

_"What tipped you off? The dead bodies or the tent?" He asked bitingly, his breath coming out like hers. Claire was only half listening, trying desperately to ride to that edge. _

_"Neither. The fact that I can move," Claire whined, wrapping her legs loosely around his hips as she reached her peak and her body seized. Her mind went blank, and her eyes saw nothing as she plunged into white._

Claire gasped as she awoke, choking slightly on air and blinking furiously as she sat up in her bed, blinded by the near-white light the sun poured over her pillow. She sat up, clutching her sheet to her chest and gasping. Her heart raced a million miles a minute and she was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her body hummed slightly, and she fought back the images in her head.

A knock on her door caused her to jump and it opened to reveal Lyle leaning against the doorframe, eyes on his videogame.

"Uh, Mum said to tell you to hurry up. She's making waffles and Mr. Muggles has a bath appointment at nine. Oh, and you have to drive me to school." He said, finally looking up and catching his sister's wide-eyed and sweaty appearance.

Her blond bangs stuck together and her hair fell wildly around her shoulders.

His forehead wrinkled and he went back to his game.

"And you should probably not leave the house looking like that," Lyle finished, walking away and leaving the door open. Adjusting to reality, Claire fell back on her pillows and stared up at the ceiling. She turned her head and looked at the lava lamp. It sat innocently, cold lava illuminated by the morning light from the window.

Well, it didn't remind her of blood anymore.


	2. Cellular Regeneration

The sound of the wheels grinding against the road was echoing in his brain.

His brain was a quiet place. Rarely rushed or pressured or even really that loud. Snap decisions were made easily and readily, and it was made based on logic. However, the steady grind of the tires against pavement was humming in his head, thrumming through his fingers and up into his arms. Sylar stared at the road unfolding ahead of him, dully taking in the desperate and dull landscape that spread itself on either side of the road. Luke sat in the seat beside him, arm propped on the window frame of his door and chin balanced on a limp hand. He stared out the window and then glanced at Sylar. His chest rose and fell, the distant wheezing being the only other noise detectable.

"You look a little tense," Luke commented.

"That's because you're breathing. Loudly."

The boy rolled his eyes and glared out the window again, ignoring the half-baked squawking of some raunchy Tila Tequila song pouring from the gritty speakers. The car they had stolen from a restaurant a few states back was now threatening to give up the ghost when it came to the sound system. The radio worked fine, but the speakers were terrible. The combination of the road and the fuzzy bumping coming from the dashboard was making Sylar's nerves twitch. If the boy was dead, there was no need for the radio. If there was no need for the radio, there was no need for noise.

If there was no other noise, the sound of the car speeding along would make him snap and drive the vehicle headlong into a cactus. He decided it was best to let the insolent brat continue to noisily suck air into his lungs and exhale wetly. His fingers tightened on the wheel, and he contented himself with focusing on the horizon. His eyes were dry in this climate and they burned and itched with sleep deprivation. He'd spent the night laying awake in a broken down motel room listening to Luke mutter and whimper into his soggy pillow. He estimated he'd gotten roughly two and a half hours of dozing before the sun's light had come up and they had peeled out of the parking lot, burning enough rubber to wake the whole continent. Now, he was stuck in this death trap, speeding down a barely paved 'highway' and listening to Luke's lungs inflate and deflate. And there was something near the back window that kept rattling and it made his fingers itch.

He looked at the road ahead, seeing nothing new. He glanced to the right.

He lazily perused the landscape, hands loosely on the wheel.

"Are you actually watching the road, or did you slice some NASCAR driver's scalp off and steal their driving skills?" Luke asked, sitting forwards and grabbing for the wheel as Sylar let go of it to scrub the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. Irritated, he sighed. All this kid did was complain, bemoan, lecture or come up with crappy situational comparisons. Sylar wordlessly knocked Luke's hand away and jerked the wheel to the right, causing the car to careen off the road and skid into the dust.

"You. Drive."

Luke held up his hands, palms up.

"I can't! It's illegal. And I can't drive a car. Like. I never learned how. I just can't."

"You point the car THAT way, and press the funny pedal right there. Move. Now," Sylar growled, throwing open his door and storming around to the other side as Luke half-hazardly clambered over the middle console and slid into the driver's side. Sylar got into his side and pointed the right way forcefully before settling back into his seat and exhaling. Not much of a relief, but he took a couple seconds to calm himself substantially while the kid figured out how to reverse. He muttered to himself and shot Sylar sidelong glances that were torn between terrified and irritated. Finally, the car bounced onto the 'highway' and pointed in the original direction.

He pushed the pedal and it chugged forwards, and Sylar pressed himself into the seat.

"Haha! I'm driving! I control the radio!" Luke crowed, grabbing the knob and blasting the song. Four beats of resounding, scratchy booms and Sylar twitched his finger and the knob spun back down and broke off, falling to the floor with a muffled thump. Luke visibly rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel with the white-knuckle pose of an inexperienced driver.

"Well, I have nothing to listen to now."

"Good." Sylar snarled.

"I could sing to you."

"I could throw your vocal chords out the window."

"I could tell you stories."

"Or maybe just open the door and dump the whole body," Sylar snapped, revising his statement with a scowl and a hand plastered over his face. All he wanted to do was sleep. Everything in his world was a chaotic mass of tangled thoughts, lies, and plans and true bliss only came when he fell unconscious. Travelling with a loudmouthed teenager, convinced that he was some sort of long lost brother or not-yet-twisted-enough prodigen was producing urges to kill that had nothing to do with Sylar's hunger for knowledge. It would just make things go faster, and he was not adverse to ditching baggage.

Especially if said luggage was a bona fide ticket to proving that Sylar was capable of not killing an annoying human. Tempted as he may be.

"You know what we should really do? Have man talk," Luke announced, eyes straight ahead. Sylar recognized the kid wanted to keep talking so that he was more relaxed driving. Not that the dusty Oldsmobile was much of a speed demon anyways, and even if he did crash, the only one that would die would be himself. Sylar would walk away muttering about having to buy new clothes.

"Man talk. Do we get pillow fights and chocolate?"

"That's girl talk."

"I want to sleep."

"Has it ever occurred to you that you really are meant to be an only child? I want I want I want," Luke asked him, launching into a longwinded ramble about Sylar's past social faux-pas and negligence when it came to becoming familiar with one another. Letting Luke drone at him was actually soothing, Sylar found. He leaned into the seat and closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion in his body settle and his bones twinge in relief. Luke's voice intoned over him, washing away the steady drivel of the miles flying underneath them and the endless baked horizon ahead.

Sylar's head swam thickly, and he felt himself curl slightly as he prepared to drift off.

His mind was settled, a cheshire smile on his lips as he sought sweet sleep.

Then the sharpness of the car filled his ears and the roar of the road hummed beneath him. Sylar's eyes snapped open as he realized Luke has stopped talking. He raised his head and looked at him, finding him staring at the road and his face entertaining a crooked smile. He glanced quickly at Sylar.

"...So. You've met all sorts of people with powers."

"Yes," Sylar grunted back, fighting thewell of frustration that bubbled under his diaphragm.

"And chicks. With powers."

"Yes."

"Hot chicks?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"That's a yes. That is SO a yes. Blondes, redheads or brunettes?" Luke asked excitedly. Sylar resisted banging his head on the window. Luke cajoled and teased him before he snapped.

"Blond."

"Oh, you see, I'm a brunette guy myself. Something sexy about dark hair, you know? Less flamboyant, more come hither."

Sylar snapped his eyes shut and willed himself to sleep. The squeak of the fabric on the springs in the seats irritated him, shrilly breaking the air whenever they went over a small bump. His eyelids grit like sandpaper, and he fought to shut out the smell of mold and decaying fabric. Not to mention, the kid was definately not wearing deodarant.

Luke was silent. Tiny rocks pinged off the windshield. The dusty sunlight made his eyelids tomato red when they were closed, and there was a muscle in his face uncontrollably spazzing.

Sylar gnashed his teeth.

"Imagine what it would be like to have sex with one of them. With an ability? Like a girl who could read minds or heat up her skin. Or generate electricity and make little shocks, like battery shocks!" Luke agreed with himself, talking loudly. Sylar went still as instead of Elle flashing through his mind, Claire Bennet's face appeared. It was fresh and smooth and glaring. Her eyes spat sparks at him. He felt Luke glance at him and heard the kid smile.

"I mean, you'd probably never have sex with them. Chop off their scalp and it's away you go. No need to stop and smell the...uh, roses."

"No. The invincible girl. You could do whatever you want to her, and who's she to complain? Not a scratch on her," Sylar said softly with a slight smile.

The open-mouthed shocked silence that answered him led him to nod off into slumber with a peaceful grin.

_He peered down the side of the building, watching the cars chase each other in an orderly fashion down the street. _

_Claire stood roughly eight feet from him, turned in the opposite direction, gazing at the overcast sky. The roof of this ancient building was bereft of anything short of vents, ducts, and puddles. They were to wait there for someone to arrive. Absently, he cracked his knuckles as he went to her side. _

_"Seen anyone heroic burst through the clouds?" He asked her, needling her on purpose. Somehow, it was her fault they were there. The roof was flat and funnelled all the noise from the street below up. The breeze that ripped past them smelled of alley and greasy spoon restaurants, rustling through the blond ponytail she had slung over one shoulder. _

_"I haven't seen anything mildly heroic in months," Claire replied nastily, casting him a sidelong glower. Sylar ignored her, jamming his hands in the pockets of his jeans and wishing the day would hurry up and get interesting. After a few minutes, she sighed loudly and began to walk back and forth. Sylar sat himself down lazily on a bent air vent the stuck out of the roof. She paced, the heels of her black boots grinding the dirt and decay. He watched her feet, travelling up the shape of her calves and the curve of her thighs. His eyes took in her butt, and the line of her torso underneath a short leather jacket. _

_She walked back and forth, occasionally casting withering glances at the sky and then giving him a deadly look before continuing on her way. He rolled his eyes and looked at his nails, picking at them idly. He looked at the purple half moons extending from his cuticles, wondering why they were there and in that particular shape. _

_She stopped pacing and was facing him, arms crossed and hips cocked. _

_"Are you always this disinterested?"_

_"Why should I be interested? Unless the puddles have a specific migratory process I'm unaware of, I don't see any reason in wearing a track on the ground," Sylar replied without looking up. He knew she would clamp her jaw shut and grind her teeth. _

_"So, we're waiting here to be rescued and we're being hunted and you're worried about your nails?" She asked him incredulously. He looked at her, sensing she was sniffing for a fight. It annoyed him how high strung she was most of the time, marching around with her nose in the air and getting her underwear in a knot for the littlest reasons. __Like robbery._

_"I'm not worried. If I was worried I'd be doing something annoying, like pacing." He said archly, causing her to stop mid-stride as __she started pacing again**.** __She frowned at him and crossed her arms._

_"I'm annoying?"_

_"No. Pacing is."_

_"My pacing is annoying?"_

_"Pacing in general is annoying."_

_"I'm annoying in general."_

_"Is everything about you?"_

_"When it's not about you, yes!"_

_"Since when is everything about me?" He challenged with narrowed eyes and she regarded him warily, tossing her head and letting her ridiculously attention grabbing hair fly in the wind._

_"Everything is about you. Where we eat, where we sleep, who we talk to."_

_"I'm sorry if we don't have money for caviar and five star hotels. As you mentioned, we're being hunted."_

_"I can't stop and talk to people?"_

_"That takes time."_

_"Oh, in minute amounts," Claire scoffed._

_"That we don't have, remember?"_

_"Is this whole anti-social thing just a thing?"_

_"I'm anti-social for obvious reasons."_

_"Like?"_

_"Is this whole anti-social thing just a thing?" He echoed her dryly. _

_"What?"_

_"Nobody has anything original to say."_

_"That's because when people are talking to you, they're saying their last words. 'Please don't kill me' is probably a common request," she told him snidely._

_"People don't talk to you, they talk at you." He replied flippantly. _

_"You need a female companion. Someone to teach you how to be normal." She said, talking over him and ignoring his remark. _

_"You're not a female?"_

_"You need a girlfriend. A female companion who can stand you."_

_"Been there. She got in the way."_

_"Did you eat her too?"_

_"Haven't we had this discussion? Why does everyone think I'm going to eat them?"_

_"Because you do?"_

_"I only eat some people, and it's generally not their brains." He sneered at her, knowing the barb would set her off. All sexual innuendos did. She would blow up and shriek or storm off and leave him alone. He was hoping she'd storm off to the other side of the roof, and maybe not stop at the ledge. Her mouth opened and she looked at him with her face scrunched up in disgust. He ignored her, looking back at his nails. _

_Two tiny hands planted themselves on his shoulders and shoved, and he found himself on the ground with a grunt. Sitting up, he found her standing over him with her hands on her hips. Something akin to a snarl came out of his mouth and he swept a leg out, knocking her onto her butt. _

_She let out a sound of outrage and dug her hands into the asphalt stones around her and then flung them at him. They hit him in the face and stung, slicing his cheeks. He felt the cuts heal as they both clambered to their feet. She turned her back on him and walked away, and he felt his blood boil at her haughty stance. _

_He raised his hand and pushed a nice current out, watching it hit her in the back and her body seize __before falling to the ground again. He advanced on her and she whipped her head around, ponytail smacking him in the face as he leaned down to grab her._

_"What the hell is wrong with you?" He snapped, grabbing her arms. Claire yelled something unintelligible at him and kicked at him. He __shocked__ her again and she stared at him in awe__ after it wore off. She clambered to her feet and lunged at him, the nails on her fingers slicing hotly across his face. He grabbed her hand and jerked it back, feeling the bone snap. She screamed and brought her knee up, jamming it between his legs. He howled and fell to his knees, hands between his legs as his crotch throbbed. _

_Her foot slammed down on the side of his face, and he yelled again as he felt his jaw break, and then heal. _

_Fire burning in his eyes, he twitched a finger and she sprawled out on her back. _

_He shakily got up and munched a toe into her ribs, listening to the shriek burst from her mouth. Arrogantly, he walked down to her legs and then hopped up onto her shin, listening to it splinter under his full weight. Claire screamed again, and the echo mocked the sound. He walked back to her head and leaned in to whisper in her ear. _

_"Are you fighting with me because you know you can break as many bones as you like?"_

_She glared at him fiercely and he smiled down at her._

_She then brought her forehead crashing upwards, catching him off guard and impacting his nose. Sylar fell back clutching his face as Claire scrambled free of his telekinetic hold and launched herself on top of him. He grabbed her wrists and squeezed them, holding her above him securely as his nose healed and the blood dripped down the side of his face. Her breath was dancing across his face, and she was sending his death to him with her eyes. _

_"All because of some little comment about food. Did you want to attack me the other day in the car when I made a comment about driving stick?" _

_"No. The whole hurting you thing is pretty much a constant battle." She snarled at him. He clenched his fists and she struggled and then let a pained scream burst from between clenched teeth as the bones__ cracked and shattered. She sat atop him for a second, holding her hands up beside her and swearing at the sky for a couple seconds as her bones__rehealed._

_He got distracted by watching her bones rebuild, __a cool thing to see on any day. She had sunk both hands into his hair, lifted and slammed his head back onto the roof top hard enough to make his brain shake inside his head. _

_He laughed at her. _

_"Violent little cheerleader!" _

_"Stop talking! Fight me!"_

_"Is this just because of the stress? Is it too much for you, little hero?"_

_She slammed his head back again, and he laughed despite the pain of his skull fracturing, and then the pain of it repairing. _

_He met her eyes and smiled devilishly at her. _

_"Or is this some deep psychologically embedded desire?" _

_She sneered._

_"I don't have to find another way to symbolize screwing you."_

_He laughed again._

_"You think you're that good looking? That's a little arrogant, Cheerleader."_

_"Don't call me that!"_

_"Cheerleader?"_

_"Gabriel!" _

_His eyes darkened exponentially at her and she didn't show any reaction to the threatening look on his face._

_"A cheerleader is what you are."_

_"No it's not," She ground out at him._

_"No? Shall I just call you Claire-bear then?" _

_She slammed his head back ruthlessly, and then yanked it up as her lips crashed down onto his. Hands fisted in hair, she held his head against hers and kissed him fiercely. Her tongue flicked across his lips, and he opened them, only to invade her mouth. He used his free hand to yank her head back and his other to move a finger and throw her body on the ground beside his. He grabbed her jaw, cupping it painfully from his upside down angle and attacked her mouth back. She clawed at his eyes and then scrambled to her feet as he rose to his own._

_Her hand cracked across his face, making his vision swim for a second. Taking advantage of his watering eyes, Claire jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his hips and jamming on hand under his jaw and the other behind his head as she forced his mouth open and fenced his tongue with her own. He growled into her mouth, grabbing the shoulders of her jacket and yanking her backwards. Instead of falling, Claire shrugged her shoulders and wiggled her arms, and the jacket slithered off ineffectively. He staggered with the weight of the two of them, catching himself and grabbing her butt and squeezing painfully. _

_She whimpered and wiggled, biting at his lips and unconsciously rubbing against him. He bit her back harshly as his body reacted to her movements and her blood gushed into both their mouths. She jerked back with an angry gasp, and he grabbed the front of her shirt to let the buttons tear open as she slid down onto her own feet. _

_She staggered back a couple steps, blouse open and revealing her bra and smooth tummy. She looked like a wild animal, and Sylar's breathing matched hers, trying to gather his senses before her next move. She skittered to the right and he bent over slightly as he tripped on her jacket. Suddenly, she had jumped over his shoulder and grabbed at his back. He backed away, and she __yanked__ at his shirt and peeled it off, roughly peeling__ it over his head. His nipples tightened in the cold, and Claire stared at his shirt and sweater in her hands with him in it. _

_He moved at her, and she turned and went to move away as his hand shot out and grabbed her thick hair, jerking her back against him with enough force to make her teeth click together. _

_Dazedly, he buried his face into her neck, biting the joining of her shoulder and then running his parted lips hotly up the column of her neck to her ear, where he breathed throatily. Instinctively, her body jerked and her butt ground back against him. Her grabbed her hips and held them against him, and she bent and turned. _

_The base of her palm jammed up into his left eye before he saw the movement. Fireworks and pain erupted in the socket, and he clapped both hands over them and stumbled back on to his back. Claire slammed herself on top of him, and he felt a sharp tug at his hips. The pain cleared away enough for him to open his eyes and see her stand over him and rip his belt free from his waist and then haul back and crack it across his chest. The sound bit sharply into the air and he hissed as his skin burned. __He sat up and tackled her around the middle, and she cried out as she toppled over with him moulded against her back. _

_"That, was mean." He hissed, reaching around and undoing her own belt and jeans. She wiggled free, and he grabbed onto a back pocket and she slithered out of his grasp, the jeans bunching down her legs and getting caught at the boots. Claire crawled away, and he snapped up his belt from the ground and whipped it at her, cracking it soundly across her bum. The skin turned fire engine red as she shrieked and rolled over onto the affected area. He shuffled after her on his knees, and she hurriedly pulled her boots off and kicked her legs free. He raised the belt again, and she hurtled her right boot at him, hitting him square in the chest. He dropped both the belt__ as she clambered to her feet and stumbled shakily sideways. _

_Sylar stumbled slightly, too distracted to generate any electricity and send it at her. _

_She pulled her shirt from her shoulders and ran at him, catching him around the face and hastily tying a knot in the arms as he pulled the fabric. He stumbled to his feet and stopped, fingers bunching the fabric up over his face so he could see and breathe. He threw the shirt to the side and she dropped, narrowly missing his palm cuffing her face and then he wound up on the ground. _

_Claire had yanked his pants down and he'd tripped with them around his ankles__. Once he was on his front, she pulled them free of his feet and chucked them clear off the roof. _

_He rolled and glared at her, and she stared murderously back at him, her chest heaving. Her breasts pushed forwards as she breathed heavily, mocking him. Her hips flared slightly outward, and her tiny pair of green underwear was stretched taut. He raised her hand and she went to move sideways when he twitched his finger and she screamed as she was thrown down on top of him, and then thrown slightly to the side, splashing into a deep puddle with Sylar rolling fluidly on top of her. _

_She growled at him and he smirked back at her, fastening his mouth on hers. _

_Her skin was hot against his, and the water splashed onto both of them as she kicked her feet while he pinned her down with his hips. He kissed her deeply, freeing himself with a wet sound and lowering his head to her collarbones and his free hand massaging her right breast. Claire groaned and wiggled her hips from side to side, raising herself slightly and breathing down into his ear as her hands gripped at the muscles of his back. _

_He pressed himself down onto her, pronouncing his erection with two deliberate thrusts against her. Her hand splashed down into the water as she gasped and tried to sit up. He bit her nipple lightly through her bra, hands sliding around her ribcage for the clasp. She moaned, and thrust her breasts up at the contact. He freed her and struggled to pull the bra off, his crotch burning and throbbing through his underwear. His mind was swimming, even as she pushed him and kicked him off her and then ripped her bra off, tossing it behind her and straddling his lap. _

_Their breathing was coming out in frenzied gasps, and Claire pushed him back into the freezing water and smirked at him as she purposefully ground down on the weeping hard on. He moaned, reflexively thrusting his hips upwards. She slapped him across the face and he arched his hips slightly as he blinked and massaged his face of the burning mask. _

_She pulled his boxers down, sliding them down his thighs in one fluid motion. He yelped as the cold air hit him and she slid back onto his lap. She grabbed his face and moved against him, her underwear creating a painful friction. He could feel the heat pouring from her through the skimpy material as she tortuously ground down on him. _

_She kissed him deeply and he groaned into her mouth as she moved her hips up and down. His skin sparked and they both jumped. He worked his hand between them and pressed against her and she gasped into his mouth and dug her nails into his flesh. The pain from those cuts only spurred him on, working his fingers against her. _

_His hands grasped at her underwear and she slapped his hands away._

_With a growl, he grabbed both her wrists in one hand, pinning them to his chest. She pulled on them, sitting on his groin and breathing hard as she twisted and pulled to get her arms free. Roughly, he toppled them sideways and then slid atop her, grabbing her underwear and shoving them to the side and delving two fingers into her._

_Claire gasped, yanking harshly on his hair. He pumped his fingers into her, feeling the slick heat clench and jump around his fingers. She whined and thrust her hips up, and he pulled them from her body. _

_"Ugh, you bastard," she groaned, kicking his calf with the heel of her foot. He glowered down into her face and grabbed her face with two hands before thrusting into her sharply. They both gasped, Claire arching her body and Sylar lowering his head onto her chest as she clenched and moved beneath him. He looked up at her again, boring down into her eyes. _

_He wiggled his hands and raised an eyebrow._

_"That's not a finger."_

_"Ugh, you BASTARD," Claire sighed, her body shaking and her wet blond hair plastered to her forehead. He slammed himself into her, thrusting as hard and as fast as he could. Claire scratched and bit, the heels of her feet digging sharply into the backs of his thighs as he moved. He was encouraged by the things she whispered in his ear, swearing and cursing him between moans and gasps. _

_He made sure every thrust moved her body and ground her back into the gravel on the roof._

_He bit her flesh, and she clawed his. He moved in with such dizzying speed and force, a nipple between his teeth. She gasped and bucked and yanked on his hair and sliced his skin with her nails. He slid out of her, taking the opportunity to flip her onto her front while she swore at him. He entered her fully again as she climbed onto her knees, and she moaned and pressed back as he melded his chest with her back. He felt gravel and dirty water bite into his knees, but could do no more than drive himself into her as she gasped and pushed back to meet his thrusts. She clenched and twisted and milked him as he moved in and out, the slick heat of her encompassing his mind and egging him to thrust harder, deeper, faster. He moaned against her skin, biting down and causing her to jump and reach behind her to scratch at him. _

_He was mindless, driving into her and listening to her moans as she tightened like a spring. _

_He was beyond caring, moving without abandon and concentrated on the pressure building. His orgasm was clawing its way forwards through his pelvis and tickling the back of his brain. He could feel all the muscles in his back start to seize. _

_"Mmmm. Claire. I can't. I have to," He gasped, concentrating hard as everything started to rush. _

_"Oh, it's always about you," She groaned back at him. _

_He spasmed, arching forcefully and ploughing into her. His mouth fell open as his mind went blank. Electrical bubbles raced down his spine and he threw his head back - _

Sylar's eyes snapped open and he jerked upwards in his seat like he'd touched a live wire. Blearily, he glanced around and pushed a hand through his hair. It was dark outside, and the nose of the car was parked facing what appeared to be the scrawny trunk of a birch tree. The driver's side was empty and the car doors were locked. Scrubbing his face, he stretched and then tenderly put a hand over the fly of his pants. He immediately thought about unarousing things, realizing that he'd have to go inside and face Luke with a fully blown erection. He stared at the room key on the dashboard with a yellow tag attached to it with the number '69' emblazoned upon it.

Groaning and muttering to himself, he quickly did some math in his head, or thought about the process of taking apart and cleaning and reassembling a watch. Eventually, he calmed down and firmly shoved images of Claire Bennet, jailbait extraordinaire, out of his mind. Grumbling about how he'd better have a bed upstairs or Luke was going to find himself sleeping in a bathtub, he grabbed the key and clambered out of the car.

**HAI GUYZ.**

**I know I haven't introduced myself, but here I am! I didn't want to spoil the first chapter by rambling at you like an annoying person. This is Chapter No.2 of a whole bunch of chapters to come. There will be minor plot and some hearty laughs. Now, I waited until I had five reviews before I put up the next chapter, and I totally don't want to lay down the law or anything, but if you seriously love this story, TAKE THE TIME TO REVIEW. I've enabled Anonymous comments in the hopes that all of you visitors will post something. **

**But, seriously. If I don't get reviews I won't bother. Because I look at the hits I get, and only about five of you can take a few seconds? **

**THANK YOU SO MUCH TO THOSE OF YOU THAT DID REVIEW. You make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and I, in return, make you all hot and bothered inside. Fair? **

**Extra cred to my FABULOUS beta editor -- ****Courbeau! Ilusomuch. **

**Read and review and I promise lots of delicious return. Thanks!**


	3. Alchemy

**MAJOR IDEA CRED TO COURBEAU. Because. Otherwise this would have been a very BDSM chapter. So you're lucky I had help shaking things up. ;D**

**HAPPY EASTER! (Note: Read while eating chocolate.)**

Sitting in class, amongst the smell of erasers, lead paint and various expensive perfumes, Claire Bennet perched on a stool with her legs crossed and her skirt tucked neatly under her.

Her white skirt and canary yellow off the shoulder top complemented her blond hair and soft eyes. Bathed in the sunlight pouring through the window, she looked completely and utterly pristine and happy. She was smiling sweetly at her notebook, staring down on her notes and diagrams and unfinished homework and idly scrawling her pencil across the margins in never ending trains of stars.

The teacher clicked a button and a picture of Nicholas Flamel popped up on the screen. Her chemistry teacher went into a quick, star-struck ramble about the determination that ended in failure, yet so many other discoveries made. He talked of the rumours of Flamel's obsession with finding the right formula. About the dream of transforming elements into gold.

Claire was not listening. Chemistry wasn't her favourite subject, and she doubted she'd ever need it with what she was going to do with her life anyway.

Her mind was in a far, far away place. It was thinking furiously, processing and drawing conclusions and making assumptions and reliving her dreams. The small smile on her face, and the blatant obliviousness to the males in her class leering at her tanned skin highlighted the fact that if Claire was anywhere, it was not in Chem.

Claire bit her lip, looking at the picture of Flamel as her teacher skittered about handing out sheets of work that she wouldn't do. He had serious eyes, like Sylar. She swallowed thickly, suddenly realizing how everything about him had invaded her mind and sucked on her brain. Eyes, skin, facial hair. The way one kid had looked at her when she had bent over at her locker. Instead of being insulted and worried about what he'd seen to make him eye her like that, she'd flipped him a saucy smile and walked away and putting enough oomph into her step that she knew her curls would bounce teasingly.

She knew what the half-starved and yet controlled expression looked like. Granted, it was from her own head, but if she thought deeply, she'd seen it before. Lots. She had just never given it much thought, or had filed it away under the 'vile' category.

Thinking about Sylar now, Claire realized she no longer found him scary.

She didn't know when she'd stopped fearing him, but something in her merely found him horrifying in one way. He was so cavalier about his ruthlessness, it made her sick. And every time she'd met him, he'd been so focused and contrite and wholly infuriating.

Not so scary anymore, just dangerous.

Claire thought back to her dream, and the feel of his lips on her body and the way he growled in her ears. She reasoned with herself that she just didn't find jerkoff high school children attractive anymore, and her brain was merely putting a person to the desires she ignored. Tapping her pencil on the page furiously, she studied the picture of Flamel. His serious eyes, focused on measuring out some unknown substance, lips drawn and pursed.

Concentrating while he worked.

Sylar's face blared across her mind with his face arranged in a mask of careful concentration as he pulled gasps and nervous spasms from her body as she silently writhed and begged for more, motionless. She agreed with herself, she did find being suspended mid-air cool and interesting.

Being touched bordered on rape, and she wouldn't be sitting in Chemistry grinning stupidly if it actually happened. She was fairly sure of that.

Claire wondered what Sylar would be like to work with since he had so much narrow minded focus on what he wanted or what was going. She always got so caught up in the beauty of the big picture, she often missed the little details. She knew from him climbing inside her brain and doing a finger-polka on her cerebrum that he was all about the details.

Not only on the details, but the mission as a whole. The pencil fell limply onto the blank note paper as her gaze fixed on something outside and unfocused as her mind ventured into the beyond.

_"It's so dusty up here," Claire coughed, feeling like her lungs were burning. The attic was low, sloped on one side. It had two boxes against the far wall, a closed trap door from the floor below, one window, and enough dust on the floor to reassemble and make the skins of twelve people. She had on a pair of (expensive, and she'd totally been looking at them at Bebe two days ago...) white short shorts and a striped white and blue wife beater. Huffing in disgust and ignoring the cramps her legs were experiencing, she sat up and pulled all her hair up into a top knot. There was not enough room in this attic to stand, merely rise and straighten out your legs while hunched over._

_Sylar was plastered against the window, binoculars in hand. _

_"It's not dusty. We've not moved enough for there to be dust everywhere."_

_"I'm getting dust on me. By sitting in it."_

_"Tragic." _

_He didn't lower the binoculars and he didn't move. He sat against the sloping wall, legs outstretched and the eyepieces glued to his face as he looked out the window. The people under observation didn't know they were there, or they weren't supposed to._

_"What does this Melissa girl do again?"_

_"Plant life."_

_"She does plant life? What kind of a time is that?" Claire asked, joking out loud and sniggering to herself. She glanced at him, looking for him to approve her joke or at least revise his statement, but he didn't appear to have heard her. Still looking out the window, he hadn't moved a muscle. She sighed to herself and let her head fall back against the wall she leaned against with a thud. _

_"She grows plants. Spontaneously. She controls that element." He said flatly, still not moving. Claire tugged at the front of her shirt, hoping to coax a breeze._

_"Plants are an element?"_

_"Claire." He said in a tone. That tone that told her to shut up or he'd do something she didn't appreciate. Right now, that made her visualize him telekinetically dragging her and her smart ensemble all through the grime on the floor, and that not only made her wrinkle her nose but also inspired a certain modicum of obedience. This whole 'two of them' operation was new. And working...so far. _

_She studied the ceiling, ignoring the ridiculous get up he was in. _

_He looked like the blatant opposite of what he normally looked like. He was decked in a stupid blue and white Hawaiian button down shirt and some khaki shorts, legs trailing down to some fairly manly sandals which were crossed smartly at the ankle. He still managed to exude the fact that he didn't like people and he'd prefer to just point and be done. _

_Literally. _

_"There we go. We've got activity." _

_"Oh! I wanna see!" Claire said, reaching beside her and snatching up her own binoculars and shuffling to the window. He drew up his legs with a vicious glare at her intrusion of his spot and then refixed his own magnifiers as Claire raised hers hastily and then wavered about for a second before spotting their target. _

_They both watched the woman standing in her driveway. She wore a simple purple dress and her brown hair was up in a high ponytail, glimmering in the Californian sun. She was talking to a man in blue jeans and a white polo shirt. _

_"What's she doing?" Claire asked._

_"Talking." Sylar told her pointedly and she rolled her eyes to herself. He was always there to point out the obvious. They watched the target and the man talk, watching her laugh and him smile and say something else. Claire smirked, pressing her binoculars against the glass as if that would get her closer so she could hear._

_"Oh, she so wants him," She declared without thinking. Suddenly, she realized what she said and glanced at Sylar, who had frowned and looked closer._

_"How do you know?"_

_"Not like...wants to cut off his head or anything, I meant it in a completely non-threatening non-reminding humanoid way, you know -"_

_He looked at her, unimpressed. _

_"Explain. I know what you meant. Contrary to popular belief, I do study humans. I am one."_

_"Sometimes." Claire muttered._

_"Pardon?"_

_"Summertime. Hot." She coughed, gluing herself to the scene outside across the street._

_The annoyance rolling off him was palpable, and so Claire decided to do as he asked. She also felt the need to prove to him she wasn't just his partner because he couldn't kill her. She shifted, ignoring the jolt that hit when her leg brushed his. _

_"Okay. So. She totally wants him. I don't know why, he looks like one of those guys who is totally hot, but has some serious ratings on the jerk scale," Claire began, intent on her study and missing the annoyed incredulous look he delivered over the eyes of his own focals. He shook his head slightly and continued to watch._

_Melissa laughed and touched the man's forearm._

_"Okay okay! That right there! That was the 'innocent and light but still flirty' touch. That was her, like, touching him to let him know she's interested but letting it be casual if he's not." Claire explained. Sylar observed. _

_He put his hands in his pockets and smiled down at the woman. _

_"Oh! Okay. That's a little mixed. He's all squared at her, look at the way his hips and shoulders are facing her, and the insides of his elbows are faced towards her which suggests he's open to her, and the fact that his feet are shoulder width apart and pointed at her means he's totally zeroed in on her. But the hands in the pockets? That's a guarded movement. He might not trust her, or he's got a girlfriend, or he's really nervous."_

_"You can tell all this from the way some one stands." Sylar intoned flatly, brow furrowed._

_"Of course. Oh! She just flipped her hair and she's fixing her earring. Girls play with their hair and jewellery when they're WAY into some guy. Flipping, tossing, combing. Looking for split ends."_

_"Split ends?"_

_"Hair stuff." She clarified offhandedly. _

_They watched closely and Claire giggled._

_"He just adjusted his shirt. Guys fix their clothing or shift their weight or something when girls mess with their hair. He's SO into her too! This is cool. Do you watch people a lot, this is fun."_

_"Don't you shift your weight when you're nervous?"_

_"Sometimes. There's also 'Cool-shifting', which is what Mr. Mismatched-Polo is doing."_

_Sylar sighed, watching as together the two moved up towards the house. Guessing they would go in, he put the binoculars down and rubbed his eyes. Claire remained at the window, biting her lower lip as she grinned._

_"Oh, here we go. Chest touch, playful smile. Good delivery."_

_He looked at her, confused. _

_"Annnd! Annnd! He's going for it, YES, the shrug and glide! Alright! She knows how to play!" She declared, putting her binoculars down and looked at her partner, who was looking back at her with one eyebrow raised and his lips set in the 'I an unamused' line. Her eyes sparkled and she crouched, shuffled back to her spot a couple inches away, plopping down with a grin._

_"She invited him in."_

_"Have you considered being a sports announcer?"_

_"Why?"_

_"I'm sure some sort of major league sports affiliation would hire you after hearing that," He remarked coolly. Claire waved a hand dismissively at him and straightened out her shirt. _

_"Why does she grow plants?"_

_"I don't know," He shrugged, using one finger to draw his name in the layers of grit on the floorboards. _

_"Ew, don't do that. Wouldn't that be cool if you could grow plants? Totally saves on gardening. You could be an amazing botanist or something. "_

_Sylar stared at her._

_"What?"_

_"Or something." He muttered, rolling his eyes._

_"Yes, or something. How do you say it in proper Sylar-English? Or some'at? Sometheeng? Somethang? Else?"_

_"You don't know what she does for a living."_

_Claire sighed, ignoring the way he ignored her question. He always did when the answer 'should' be obvious to her, but it never was. _

_"It would make sense to be a botanist. It's what her ability is."_

_"And everyone follows their abilities. You're a crash-test dummy and Peter and Nathan run Petrelli Air, right?"_

_"That's makes you, what? You'd make an excellent professional mover with that nifty telekinesis." _

_"I have many abilities. Some I never use."_

_"Oh, yeah? Like what? Being a human stamp?"_

_"Alchemy. I can turn anything to gold."_

_"So, if I take my phone cover off, can you save me a bunch on that new Nokia monster?"_

_"Anything. Individual molecules, whole buildings and everything in it." He said, talking over her financial stash and save scheme._

_"You cannot. Molecules. There's not enough room in a molecule to make a gold molecule." She said haughtily, turning her nose up at him._

_"That made little to no sense." Sylar replied with a dark look. Claire frowned._

_"I know. But, I mean. I don't believe you. You can't be THAT controlled." She told him, tossing her head and crossing her legs. The sun was setting and the golden rays in the attic made the room light up. _

_"I can."_

_"You can't."_

_"Shouldn't you be cheering me on? You're such a firm believer that anyone can do anything."_

_"It's chemically impossible."_

_"And it's chemically and physically impossible for you to pop your ribs back in and yet here we are."_

_"Prove it." Claire said heatedly. _

_Sylar sighed, knitting his brows together and concentrating with one finger hovering millimetres from the ground. He clenched his jaw, and Claire glanced around when he sat up and crossed his arms with a pronounced smirk. She cocked an eyebrow. _

_"I see nothing different. What'd you do?"_

_"I made the dust gold! I- oh for -." He snapped, standing up and hunching and stomping around, kicking his feet and sending clouds of it up in whirling masses. Claire gasped, holding out her hand as the room filled with glints and glimmers. She rose slightly, watching it dust her skin and gleam in the sun, turning the room to gold and light. _

_She touched and glanced around until it settled, and she looked at him. He was kneeling with his arms crossed and watching her with an expression halfway between amusement and interest. Claire laughed, spotting the gold flecks in his hair. It stood out starkly against the dark strands, and she reached out, brushing them free and watching them float down his chest and settle on the floor. He jerked slightly away from her touch and she smiled at him, getting closer._

_"Gold isn't really your colour. It stands out pretty clearly." She stage-whispered at him, gently brushing the flakes free from his hair and shoulders and anywhere they had settled. He didn't move, allowing her to brush him off, gold clinging to her skin and already gold blond hair. It looked natural on her, like it belonged there. Gold was made for her skin, and the flush in her cheeks was only accentuated by the rich light bouncing from her._

_Claire's fingers heated and her stomach knotted as she gently brushed his shoulders free, feeling the swell and knot of muscle underneath the shirt. She wasn't aware she was holding her breath, pulling her chest in so her breasts didn't graze his stomach. Done cleaning, her hand dropped hesitantly, grazing down his torso before falling to her side. _

_She glanced up at him, and found him watching her with speculation in his dark eyes. _

_"And what would you call that move?" He asked quietly. Her cheeks flushed and her limbs became especially jello-like. _

_"Stupid," she muttered, giving her head a slight shake. _

_She went to turn away, and she felt his fingers snake around her wrist. Claire looked at him, watching wide eyed as he gently cupped her jaw and then pressed his lips against hers. Violent shocks screamed down her spine, causing her to shiver at his touch. Gently, she responded, tilting her head up and pressing softly. He seemed almost surprised at her move and as she inched closer to him, proceeded to move against her lips. Claire revelled in the feel of his lips on hers, caressing them wetly. Sinking her fingers into his hair, she felt it slip gently between them and she let her nails rake softly against his scalp. _

_Sylar shuddered slightly, grabbing her hips with both hands and pulling her closer. Being bigger than her, he curled over her frame, one hand wrapped firmly against the curve of her waist and the other raising again to cup the side of her face. He kissed her deeply then, the pressure on her mouth increasing and his tongue flicking gently across her lips. Obediently, she opened her mouth and his tongue slipped through. Her hands bunched helplessly on his shoulders as she clung to him, her softer body melding against his leaner one as he delved into her mouth and moved the hand on her waist to her back._

_She didn't notice him gently bunch the shirt up, exposing the tanned gold skin on her back. His fingers touched her and she jumped, squeaking into his mouth as she shivered and squirmed while he traced circles and her nerves went haywire. Blood rushed between her ears as he released her mouth, giving her a quick chaste peck and moving his head back. She tried to follow his mouth but he pulled away slightly, trying to look her in the eyes. _

_Bunching her hands in his dark hair, she gently pulled his head back and without thinking leaned forwards and pressed her lips to the fluttering skin just underneath his jawline. _

_"Claire, I -," He said thickly, but she acted fast. _

_Using the tip of her tongue, she brazenly traced the underside of his jawbone, all the way up to his ear. He had bowed his head for her to continue, and she smiled and let a breathy laugh into his ear. He visibly shivered, moving his head against hers and his mouth falling open. Claire ran her tongue up the shell of his ear and back down to the lobe, which she sucked between her lips and gave a soft tug. His fingers were gripping her waist tightly, and his breathing was shallow and quick. He turned his head, about to say something when she silenced him again by nipping at his lower lip and running her tongue along the edge. _

_Her fingers quested down his torso, running over the bold panes of muscle that bunched and flexed under her fingers as they skimmed. He bent his head and breathed into her ear, and that side of her body lit up as all her nerves seemed to bunch together deliciously and she curled onto that side slightly. _

_"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, watching with hooded eyes as one of his hands softly cupped her breast. Claire gasped, arching into his palm and kissing him with an open-mouth. He growled slightly at her, pushing her onto her back gently. Gold erupted in plumes around them as they landed, Claire arching as his fingers plied and played, teasing her nipple through the shirt. Her fingers yanked up his own shirt at the hem, immediately exploring his lower stomach along his belt. She found a trail of wiry dark hair that led up to his shallow bellybutton. Lips locked, Claire let out a strangled moan as he pinched and pulled slightly, and she gathered more shirt and brought it up. Automatically, he let her go to sit up on his haunches and pull the shirt free. _

_Claire watched his skin in the sunlight, and the puckered nipples. The muscles rippled and clenched as he pulled his shirt up, his stomach flexing and ribs moving. He tossed it free and looked at her looking at him. Claire smiled self consciously and then reached down and slid her own shirt up and free of her body, tossing it over on top of her binoculars. She sat up again, climbing to her knees and touching his chest shakily. She watched him reach out, and pull both her bra straps down over her shoulders. Wordlessly, she reached behind her back and deftly undid the clasp. _

_Her face flushed as the bra fell away and her breasts were exposed in the sunlight. He took them in, reaching out and brushing his knuckles over the nipples before encompassing them in both hands. He leaned down and Claire tilted her head aside as he attacked her neck. She gasped at the ceiling as his fingers moved and squeezed and his lips on her neck left scorching marks on her skin. She pulled him against her, feeling their skin touch each others. She revelled in the rough velvet that ran under her fingers as she traced his back. His hands danced down her abdomen and he pulled back and gave her a mischievous grin as he touched her navel barbell with one finger. She watched it turn gold, feeling a wave of heat in its place before the metal changed. She gave him a mock dirty look and he grinned innocently at her, leaning down and sucking her nipple between his lips. Claire moaned, biting her lip and holding his head against her. He was unfairly skilled with his tongue, and it swirled and flicked and traced and did all sorts of things she couldn't put into words._

_Gently, she guided his face back to hers and she kissed him sweetly, forcing him upright again._

_Using her nails, she ran waves and spirals, scratching lightly all down his chest, pausing to flick her tongue over his nipple. His breathing was coming out harsher now, laboured and heavy. Her fingers stopped at his belt and she nimbly undid it, pulling the belt loose and unsnapping the button. His body twitched and jerked surreptitiously and his hands gently grasped her upper arms as she drew his fly down and the pants fell open, barely clinging to his narrow hips. She looked up at him, and she found his face clouded with lust. Her own response was soaking through her underwear and every heartbeat caused an uncomfortable throb of need. She was slick, and she could feel it without fingers. _

_"You have to know that what you're doing is -," He said huskily._

_"You have to stop trying to avoid things. I doubt you give out this many chances." She replied, catching him by surprise and sliding her hand down the band of his boxers. The temperature increased, and she felt the coarseness of the trace of dark hair. Her fingers wrapped around him, hot silk wrapped over____steel. The pads of her fingers touched the head, and Sylar jerked his hips and hissed into her hair. She held still for a moment, and then tightened her grip and gave him a heady stroke. _

_Something relatively violent was muttered onto the top of her head, and his hands were wildly touching different parts of her. Her breasts heaved against his chest, and Claire let go of him so she could pull his pants down. He sat back, leaning to free his legs and kick the pants away. She straddled his lap, and he leaned back on his elbows, brown eyes watching her as she carefully reached down and touched him again. The reaction was not as rough, but she watched the knit in his brow gather as he watched her hand pass over him and he gently flexed his hips up. His breath seemed to whoosh on the exhale, and the apex of Claire's thighs ached horribly. A flush was riding over her skin, lighting it and giving her blood a sense of urgency. _

_A bead of fluid appeared on the tip, and she spread it around with her finger._

_"Oh, Claire," He hissed, sitting up and stilling her hands as he undid her shorts and pulled both her shorts and underwear down her thighs. She quickly worked and shifted to get the off, throwing them over to her shirt. She turned back to him, still straddling his lap. Nothing was between them but heat that blazed through the couple inches separating them. Sylar sat up again, kissing her breasts and looking up at her. _

_His fingers brushed the inside of her thighs, eyes looking at her curiously. _

_"Please. Please touch me." She rushed out, giving in to the waves in her head and the urges all her muscles seemed to be having. His fingers pushed into her folds, finding them slick and wet. She rested her forehead against his as he felt his way down, pressing and circling her clit and making her sigh and her legs shake. They continued down, finding her opening. He gently pushed the tip of one finger in and pulled it out._

_Claire moaned, pressing down and moving her hips. _

_He slid one finger in, and she sighed. He pulled it out and dipped the second one in. _

_"Two?" He asked, sounding slightly unsure. She knew he didn't know anything about her past, or what to expect. _

_"Can we skip the fingers?" She gasped as he pushed one into her and made a come hither motion. The muscles inside her clenched and twisted and Claire shook._

_"Claire -,"_

_"Please." She added, shutting him up. She sat down on him, feeling the length of him pressing against her. Sylar hissed, his chest expanding and contacting savagely. She looked at him, moving her hips and spreading herself on him. He clamped his jaw shut and a muscle twitched. Taking that as consent, Claire raised herself up and guided him. A quick glance up found him watching with passion bitten lips parted. She sunk down on to him, whimpering as the feeling of him pushing into her overwhelmed her. She sank all the way down, hearing Sylar swear and feeling his hips flex. She knew he watched himself disappear into her and the look on her face._

_She gasped at the ceiling and began to move, biting her lip as the delicious friction built. His hand slid between her lips and pressed up on her clit. Claire sat back, hands grabbing at his tensed thighs as she moved up and down, and his hand caused tremors and spasms. She opened her eyes and found his closed, along with his mouth. He was chewing on the inside of his lip. _

_She moved roughly, riding him as quickly as she could as the friction built and caused lovely colours to erupt behind her eyes. She looked at the ceiling, riding him faster as she tried to coax herself over the edge. The room was bathed in sunlight, and the gold was smeared all over their bodies, shining on their skin. The whole world was golden, and the need to climax was becoming ever urgent. _

_"I can't go fast enough." She gasped out, fingers digging into his thighs. In one swift movement, he had gently rolled her onto her back and moved faster, his hips slamming up against hers. He was using his arms to support him, so she slipped her hand between them and began mimicking whatever he'd been doing to her. _

_It built, causing her to squirm and breathlessly gasp for more._

_He seemed to be breathing with every thrust, and Claire's body suddenly began the scrumptious coil. All her muscles tightened and the friction built to a high peak. Claire practically sobbed she was going to come and then spasmed roughly, her body jerking against his rhythm. Sylar froze, groaned and then exploded into a series of jerks and shudders. _

_Her muscles relaxed as he pulled out with a grunt. _

_He lay beside her, gasping for air as she fought the overwhelming wave of content that slid through her body like melting butter. _

_She looked at him, and he was covered in gold again, it was sticking to his skin and was flecked through his hair and eyebrows. He looked at her and then looked at the ceiling as she grinned easily at him. They watched the gold they kicked up swirl in the sunlight, glinting and glimmering as it fell and settled over them like expensive snow. _

A book slammed down in front of her, and Claire jumped visibly. Her teacher towered over her desk, scowling at her.

"Are we back on earth, Ms. Bennet?" He snapped.

Heart racing at a million miles a minute, she struggled to flash him a quick smile.

"Never left."

**Hey. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF YOU WHO REVIEWED. I owe you guys so much and you keep me going. Even when I know, after hours of Law, that writing is the last thing on the planet I wanna do, I do it for you guys. Feel loved. AND; seeming as last chapter was (yes, in my opinion) verrrry yummy, but kind of rough, I decided to give little bit of a softer, romantic spin to things. In case there's any hold-me-softly die hards out there who didn't run screaming from the first two chapters. Your salvation (salivation) is here! Also, I was going to post after the Easter holidays, but I figure most of you are going to wind up at some family dinner (like myself) and therefore you'd need something to make you feel better. ;3**

**As for the gold, I realize gold is a heavy metal and probably wouldn't float in the air. But, let's just bend some rules and stuff for now, just for my sake.**

**AND! I realize Sylar is out of character. But these are Claire's awake fantasies! And her conscious has a different perception of him than her subconscious. And I know she seems a little out of it too, but I think every girl has a side to her that's like the one above. **

**You like it anyways.**

**Read, read and review! **

**loveyoulady'kayhtankyoubyebye. ( hart )**


	4. Clairesentience

The fact that he was half off the bed was the first thing Sylar was cognizant of when he awoke the next day. This always annoyed him.

He was too long for most blankets, beds, and pants. At this point, he grunted and raised his head, burrowing his hands under his pillow as he pushed himself up and looked around.

Luke cast him a lazy sideways glance.

"I'm hungry," He stated plainly.

"What are you? Four? Get your own food."

"Me and what money?"

"Go mug somebody," Sylar snapped, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He buried his face in his hands and wiped at the tired skin. Luke rolled his eyes and turned off the TV he'd been watching on mute and tossed the remote onto the bedside table.

"Fine. I'll just go next door and steal the wallet of the little old lady who you scared half to death last night."

"Fine. Just get gone." Sylar groaned. Luke paused at this statement and turned around, crossing his arms over his chest and resting all his weight on one leg with his hips cocked.

"Who were you dreaming about?"

Sylar resisted spitting a teenage retort about Luke's mother and ignored the query. Instead, he threw back the blanket and padded towards the bathroom. He placed one hand on his lower back and pressed down, stretching the rest of his body up and cracking his back.

"Hey!," Luke said heatedly, licking his lips quickly as the mental reminder of just whom he was yelling at blared in his mind.

Sylar turned and faced him, eyebrow raised.

Even standing in nothing but some blue boxer briefs, he was scarily impressive. Luke furrowed his brow.

"You talk in your sleep you know. And thanks to that fact, I know now you like everything harder." He snapped shakily.

A dangerous smile appeared on Sylar's face.

"And every passing second it gets harder to not kill you."

Seeing this wasn't going very well, Luke abandoned ship by turning and slamming the motel room door behind him without further words.

"I hate children," Sylar muttered as he shuffled into the bathroom and snatched up a towel. He cranked the heat of the shower and let the steam roll out of the stall. Judging by the revolting mess of wet towels on the floor, Luke had taken a shower earlier.

Sylar shed his remaining clothing and climbed into the shower, hissing as the hot water hit his skin and turned it lobster red.

He adjusted and leaned his head against the tiled wall. He couldn't remember his dreams, but according to Luke, they were good ones. If having dirty dreams was what made the kid want to leave him alone in the morning, he was definitely going to have to become more imaginative when he slept.

He knew without a doubt whom it was he had been thinking about it**.** Even if Luke didn't know who she was, he was obviously going to put two and two together eventually.

And when the boy added to four, his time with Sylar would end.

Sylar was as of yet undecided if he would take the pleasure in killing the kid, or leaving him some place interesting, like a gay bar in the middle of some unfamiliar city.

Luke acted like a bottom in Sylar's opinion.

Absently, he reached for an unwrapped bar of soap on the ledge of the tub. As soon as his hand wrapped around it, he felt like he'd been hit in the front of his brain.

_A small brown skinned woman wrapping him up with quick, stiff fingers. A dingy cement ceiling loomed above her. _

_Being put down in something and someone walking away. _

_Dumb fingers tearing wrappings off, and then submerging him under the spray of the water. He was spun, lathered and then rubbed over the neck of a male. A quick movement as he was rubbed down the belly, he realized it was Luke. _

Sylar jerked his hand away with a strangled manly yelp. He reeled, throwing his arm out for balance as his head spun dizzily. He then cursed himself. That power only popped up when he was least expecting it.

And it always hit him upside the head.

He calmed himself and then mustered himself up, suddenly nauseated by the thought of washing with something that Luke had washed with. Collecting himself, he grabbed the bar and scrubbed himself with it as he pursed his lips and ignored the 'ew' factor.

Soap was soap. Scrubbing himself down was always vigorous and routine. He sank his hands into his hair and gave it a thorough scrub, raking his fingers nails on his scalp. His spine tingled and he was plunged into memories of his dreams of Claire.

Idly, he thought about his power. What it would tell him about her. He closed his eyes, warm in the spray of the water and thought back to her old room. He could imagine touching the bed, and learning how she slept. Did she sleep shallowly? Deeply? Did she toss and turn? Did she sleep on her back?

His mind quickly drew up an image of her sleeping on her side, legs curled closer to her chest.

The bed would tell him of other things she did.

Reading, writing. Homework. Texting. Lying awake.

He imagined her hands travelling over her body as her senseswoke. He envisioned her fingers pinching and swirling. Touching, grazing. Her lips parting, gasping. Her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as she furrowed her brow and ground down on her hand with a whimper.

Sylar's eyes snapped open as his brain made the sounds of her echo in his ears. He shook his head minutely and shut his eyes again. It was just too easy to think about...

_She was so innocent, so unawares. He could watch her move around her room, putting things away and humming to herself as the radio played. Her hair was down, hanging around her shoulders loosely. She was obviously ready for bed, her face freshly scrubbed and she was wearing a tiny white shirt and a pair of pale grey shorts. _

_There was something attractive about watching a woman absently fold her underwear and toss it into a drawer. Especially if they were an interesting array of lace and cotton in pastel and neon colours. _

_Sylar stepped into her room, letting the door shut and click locked behind him. _

_She stilled as she hung a short black dress in the closet. He watched her take a deep breath and turn and look at him. Her green eyes turned and caught his, mouth already set in a line. Her face fell into one of shock and fear as she saw him. _

_"...How did you get in?"_

_He stared at her._

_"I'm sorry. Were you expecting someone else? Peter, perhaps?"__He asked, snidely. She stood rooted to the spot, her eyes searching the windows and door for escape. She'd throw herself out a second floor window, he knew. Little Miss Heroics. It got so old after awhile, he didn't even bother barring the windows with something. He'd just follow her out. He was a fan of outdoor sex. _

_He smirked and walked to her bed, where her clean laundry was strewn in piles. He smiled at her as he reached down and gingerly touched a simple red cotton thong. It was a vivacious red, something he could see her wearing. It would go with her cheer outfit. He touched it, mentally pulling its most recent history out of it. _

_The rushing filled the front of his brain and he smiled as visions of her becoming aroused while she wore it filled his head. Claire watched with an open mouth as he touched her underwear and closed his eyes and took a cleansing breath. His hands shook as the smell of her filled his mind, and the heat blazed through his senses. He let go, opening his eyes with a soft chuckle._

_"Well, it's a good thing you washed those. Tell me, who do you think about in class that makes you THAT touchy?" Sylar questioned innocently, approaching her in a roundabout way, dragging his fingers along her furniture. Her lip curled, and her cheeks flamed as she looked at him like he was a bug she stepped on. _

_Well, as best she could anyways._

_"You're a special kind of sick, you know?" Claire sneered at him. He sighed. Again with the 'I hate you, scum' tone. _

_"I've been told. Please. Sit." He told her absently, pushing her into a chair. She squeaked as the chair ripped out from under her desk and pressed the back of her knees until she collapsed on it. He cocked an eyebrow and pointed a finger at her, mock scolding. He stopped at her vanity, looking into her jewellery box with a quizzical expression as he pawed through her__valueables. _

_"You know something? You can tell more about a person from their things than you can from them. Because everyone pretends. I once read a study about how the only time a person is without a mask is during orgasm. I found a fault in that, because honestly, how can you be completely exposed and yourself if you're too busy orgasming? No one answered me unfortunately." He told her conversationally. Claire rolled her eyes and pinched her lips together. _

_He glanced at her, sitting calmly in a chair. Her nipples were pressing wantonly against the cotton of her shirt while she looked boredly at the other side of the room. _

_"I have this unique power," he began again, watching as she looked at him._

_He twitched a smile at her._

_"Your grandmother fed it to me, actually. I think I would have appreciated it more if it weren't handed over to me like a bowl of Kibble'n'Bits, but beggars can't be choosers."_

_He could tell she was gnawing on the question, watching with nervous eyes as he stood in front of her closet, clothes stuffed in it like they were going out of style. _

_He heard the telltale scoff to herself as she gave in._

_"What power?" She asked with resentment. _

_She always wanted to know. _

_"I can see what has happened to an object. It is actually really handy for surveillance sometimes."_

_"And so you're going to molest my jeans because being in my back pocket is so exciting." She filled in for him dryly. _

_"Oh, it's not your back pocket I'd like to be in." He said, shooting her a dirty glance over his shoulder. Her breath hitched, but she managed to look bored._

_"Surprise," came the flat reply._

_He looked at her closet, spotting a flimsy purple dress on a hanger. He looked at it closely, examining the club-esque style of it. He doubted she'd wear something like that to a school function or Petrelli family breakfast. _

_Almost compulsively, he reached out and touched it, wrapping his fingers firmly in the silk material. His mouth fell open as images flooded his mind. _

_It hugged all her curves deliciously, showing skin to men who couldn't have it. The royal purple complimented her skin so well, and she hadn't worn a bra when she wore it. She'd been dancing, grinding with friends and strangers, lost in the music. Sylar's brain processed the senses, and he could feel the way her hips undulated under his fingers like an iron piston, or the way her breasts bounced and jiggled shamelessly as she thrust her chest out and moved her body in a fluid snake like motion. _

_Velvet skin, heated and flushed as it wildly twisted and turned under the cool silk slip. _

_A guy had been there, hand splayed on her stomach and hips pressing against her round and supple ass. She'd pressed back, moving teasingly against a bulge that was most insistent. _

Mouth open and breath mixing with the hiss of the water, Sylar's hand hesitated as it drifted down his torso. The thick erection standing free demanded attention, and the visions of tanned thighs and swinging hips danced behind his closed eyelids. He took himself into hand, giving a heady squeeze and letting out a barely audible groan as the familiarity from years and years ago flooded into his muscles.

_"This dress tells me everything. You went clubbing. You filled it out so well, didn't you? Any man would have given his left eye to press against you. You liked the feel of the air on your skin and the way people touched you. You liked the way he responded, you liked teasing him. You like moving your body in ways that drive men crazy, shaking your hips and waving that body. You love that special power it gives you, something natural you're blessed with." He said, letting it go and opening his eyes. _

_She was looking at him with wide eyes._

_"Do you deny it?" He asked her._

_She shrugged._

_"What's the point?"_

_"Your clothes remember everything. This shirt," he grabbed a blue t-shirt "was the shirt you wore when you went to the grocery store without a bra. These shorts have been worn so high your ass is in danger of being seen. These jeans you wear when you wear your most expensive underwear. You wore this dress the night you lost your virginity, and you took it off before you got to the good part."_

_He bent down and picked up a pair of stilettos._

_Suddenly a laugh ripped from his throat. _

_"You don't wear these shoes because a guy you messed around them managed to get some of his...excitement on them. Ruined the suede."_

_He dropped them carelessly and approached her. She watched him with guarded eyes, chewing on her lip._

_"Your things tell me you're a very, very bad girl. Who would have thought?"_

_She smirked at him._

_"You, obviously." _

_He smiled slowly, the grin spreading from one side of his face to the other slowly as he looked deeply into her eyes, a hair's breath from her lips. _

_"See, this chair is going to remember you sitting on it getting all worked up. It's going to remember the way your legs are shaking and you're rubbing your thighs together."_

_Her cheeks stained darker, but the tiny smirk on her lips didn't budge an inch. _

_"Right." She said, raising an eyebrow back at him. _

_"Your clothes will remember when I take them off. This room will remember everything I do to you. Don't you feel like it's watching you?"_

_"Everything you're going to do to me?" She laughed, tiny white teeth appearing. "What are you going to do to me?"_

_"Everything I want to."_

_Her eyes flashed and she pushed against invisible restraints, bringing her face millimetres from his. Her mouth opened and she licked them quickly, smiling and looking into his eyes._

_"Promise?" She whispered. _

Sylar groaned slightly as he hastily lathered his hand and slid it over himself again with a tighter grip. His brow knitted together as his legs splayed themselves shoulder width apart and he braced himself on the wall. A short breathless grunt punctuated the rough pull and tug movement as he started a quick rhythm on himself with a forgotten ease. His eyes slid shut as pleasure drove him harder.

_He stepped back from Claire's face, letting her free of the chair. She stood, frowning at him. _

_"So, they 'remember' everything that's happened to me?"_

_"To them," He clarified, invading her personal space. She looked up at him with a brooding frown, tiny fingers reaching out and grabbing the fabric of his t-shirt and twining it between them. She fisted her hand in the material and tilted her head back as she pulled him closer to her. _

_"So, you're gonna go home and feel this shirt and remember how I touched it right now?"_

_He swept his lips firmly over hers in response, grasping her upper arms and holding her against him firmly. She responded with a muffled sound, her lips coming alive like electricity under his. She broke away with a smile. Her cheeks were flushed, lips glistening. _

_"So, my shirt is going to remember when it slides up and over my head, and then falling to the floor?" She asked him with a sultry drawl. _

_Pulling her against him, he hungrily devoured her lips as his hands slid up her torso. The pads of his fingers roved her skin like starved men at a feast, following the__** rise**__ and valleys. He felt her shudder as she rose up on her tiptoes in an effort to exert force back at him. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth and he groaned as the suction pulled at his groin with a delicious jolt. Her hands gripped at his biceps, nails raking gently over the soft skin as his fingers trailed over her shoulder blades and down to her ribs before sliding around her rib cage. _

_With one free hand, he braced her back and pressed her against him as he seized opportunity when she released his lip and slid his tongue into her mouth. His questing hand slipped up her ribs and gratefully grasped the soft weight of her breast, letting the globe fill his hand perfectly. The nipples tickled his palm as they pebbled against the rough skin and his fingers played with the quivering flesh. _

_Claire gasped into his mouth, arching her hips against him. _

_Two hands latched to the sides of his head as she stood straight and held his head against hers while she fought back and fenced his tongue with hers, flicking her tongue against the roof of his mouth in competition with his as he fought to delve into the depths of hers. Abandoning her back, he slid both hands around, cupping both breasts and pressing them together before letting them fall freely and giving a quick pinch to the nipples. _

_Claire gasped and thrust them further into his palms. _

_Sylar broke away from her with a grin._

_"Unfortunately, that's not what I had planned for the shirt." He said raspily as he looked into cloudy green eyes and over bee-stung lips. Without warning, he grasped the material and tugged at a tear in the back. With a sharp ripping sound the shirt was torn up the back and then pulled off her body with a smirk. _

_It fell to the floor uselessly and he attacked her breasts with his mouth, taking the nipple in and flicking circles and triangles over it. Claire gasped and then cried out with a halted strangled sound. Her hands beat helplessly on his back before clutching at his hair. Her head fell back and a whimper burst from her lips as her breathing went through the roof. _

Sylar gasped and shook, realizing he wasn't going to last long. The almost painful pleasure tightening his balls made his strokes come out shorter and rougher, with a quick flick of the wrist over his head. He made a slick, steady wet sound. His eyes didn't open once, and his legs shook with the muscle tension. His toes curled unconsciously as he shakily maintained balance.

_"You...uh...you ripped my shirt," Claire gasped yanking his head back up. He latched to her neck, making searing hot seals on her skin as he trailed up her neck. He bit down gently and she jumped._

_"You've got lots." He muttered, gently nipping the skin over her jugular as it fluttered madly beneath the surface. _

_"Yeah, well. Your shirt is going to have to remember me taking it off you," Claire ground out, tearing the hem of his shirt upwards. He jerked back in surprise as she struggled to pull it off him from her lower vantage point. She tore it off him and then tossed it across the room over her shoulder. _

_She looked at him with a cute defiance. _

_"And it'll have to get used to the person who wears it having boobs." _

_"Fine," Sylar said impatiently, groaning slightly as she melded their upper bodies together and the skin on skin contact made them both sigh. She snared his mouth again with quick intoxicating kisses that made him dizzy, before sweeping in for a deep, soul-sucking kiss. She swallowed the groan that he let into her mouth._

_He grasped her hips blindly and slammed them against his, instinctively arching himself against her insistently. Her nails bit into his back as she kissed him and her hands slid over his body. Her soft breasts pressed against his chest were like two burning swells of fire against him, and he fought for dominance in his own mouth as the tiny blond attacked him with everything she had. His ever wandering palms drifted down and around to her ass, filling both his hands and giving a rough squeeze. The firm flesh was thick with a womanly give only girl-ass has, and he cupped and squeezed, kneading and playing. _

_Her feet briefly left the floor when her hand drifted between them and grasped the blazing erection trapped by his pants. He jerked with a moan, the grasp on her bum lifting her whole body off the floor a couple inches. She giggled, giving him another tug and listening to him groan into her neck and his hands sneakily tug at her shorts. _

_"I have to touch you," He demanded thickly, as she lifted one leg and wrapped it around his thigh as his hand slid over the needy skin. His fingers pressed against the crotch of her shorts, and the heat burned through it earnestly. Claire shuddered and pressed closer. _

_"Please. Please do." _

_Hastily, he pushed the flimsy material of both the shorts and the underthings aside and impatiently pushed his middle finger into her. They both hissed at the contact, Claire expanding and desperately milking his finger for more while Sylar struggled with his brain as his cock throbbed and weeped inside its confines. _

_Her juices encased him hotly, her walls clenching powerfully around his__fingers__as he added another one and she all but trilled in his ears. He bit down on her shoulder gently as he began to pump two fingers in and out of her while she squirmed and clutched at his wide frame with one leg hoisted for him. _

_She breathed in his ear, and the sound echoed down his spine and resonated in his groin. _

_She unzipped his pants and pushed them open, deftly working his boxers down and letting him spring free. She wrapped her tiny hand around him and gave him a swift once over, and Sylar's mouth fell open with a strangled noise. He caught her movement and pushed his fingers into her in time with her strokes on him. _

_She whined out loud, punctuating it with a gasp and purr._

_"God, it's good I didn't leave you on the chair. Nuuh. You'd leak down the legs." He moaned, weakly thrusting himself into her hand. _

_"You're such a jerk." She whinged as she wiggled and pressed down. _

_He stopped moving, pulling out of her. She let out a frustrated noise and let her leg fall, the foot stamping on the floor as she breathed harshly up at him._

_"Gonna lift me up and push my underwear aside? I'll let you keep the shorts so you can feel them and get off in the future." She promised him darkly. _

_"How kind of you," He replied half-hazardly, tweaking a nipple cheekily. _

_Wordlessly, she attached her luscious__lips to his chest, pressing her__mouth over his nipples and laving the sensitive flesh with her tongue. He watched her continue down his stomach, making his muscles jump and clench as her fingertips swirled and traced circles and figure eights ahead of the burning mouth that travelled down past his belly button. _

_Gently sitting on her knees, she looked up at him with challenging green eyes as her fingers tugged and pulled gently at the black hair. Mouth open, he watched uncomprehendingly as she licked her palm and then slid her closed fist over his head. He groaned, and then cursed as he watched her lips follow, and he was enveloped in the most fantastic wet heat he'd felt. _

_She seemed to laugh at him silently as he watched with hooded eyes__and touched her head and his stomach and crossed and uncrossed his arms as his mind tried to figure out what to do with his hands while his body was assaulted by the expert movement of her tongue and inferno of a mouth in tandem with her hot, wet hand. _

_Her other hand had slipped down to his balls and were gently massaging them together, pulling and squeezing gingerly. _

_He could only gasp and groan, biting his lip and looking at the ceiling as she licked and swirled and sucked._

_The pressure building was unbearable. _

Sylar grunted and tightened his grip, his body knotting up in anticipation as he worked himself roughly, his body jerking with the force. Water hit his skin and rolled over it, following the bunch and relaxation of his muscles, trailing down his back and over his ass. His unconscious noises were nearly masked by the sound of the water rushing in the shower stall.

_"Stop," He gasped, pulling her away and up. She smirked at him before he kissed her swiftly. He let her go, pressing himself against her and stepping out of the jeans puddled at his feet. _

_"I changed my mind about the shorts."_

_"What?"_

_"I'm not pushing them aside. I'll keep them, but I'm going to relive them hanging around your ankles."_

_"Wha -" Claire asked, cut off by the yanking down of her shorts. She flashed him a momentary look of annoyance before he spun her around. She squeaked as he grasped her hips and pressed her upper body downwards. Hastily, she braced her elbows on the seat of the chair and looked over her shoulder._

_"What a romancer you are," She commented with a groan as he slipped two experimental fingers in here._

_"What part of this was romance?" He asked her chokingly as he guided himself to her entrance. She whined and pressed backwards, feeling his tip and craving the penetration. Her knees shook and her hips bucked back at him as a hand slip down around her hip and between her legs, working her quickly. _

_Claire bit her lip and scrunched her face as she gasped and tried to encourage him in. _

_"Claire -"_

_"My god, do it, please!" She snapped desperately. _

_He pushed into her with one powerful thrust and they both cried out in unison again. Claire bit her lip impatiently as she moaned and tried moving against him. Sylar's breath was coming out in gasps as she gloved him and her muscles clenched and pulled encouragingly. Gently grasping her hip with his free hand, he began a steady pound. The __sound__ of their bodies colliding echoed__ loudly in the room and was unheard by the occupants of it. Sylar pushed himself, feeling the boiling sensation spreading slowly and his mind starting to fog up euphorically. Knowing it wouldn't be long, he freely pounded into her, encouraged by her purrs and gasps. _

_"Oh, god. Yes. Yes. - "_

" - Yes." Sylar gasped, his body melting and his release wiping through his brain with a blinding infinity. He shuddered and jerked, the muscles spasming and his breath gasping out erratically. His heart beat furiously against his ribs as he came down. He removed his hand, pre-angled so he didn't get himself all over the wall of the shower stall.

Breathing like a racehorse, he shakily grabbed the soap and turned it in his hands before giving his body another quick scrub. A feeling of bewildered relaxation was coming over him, his body tiring and a feeling of satiation sweeping through his mind. He wasn't going to dissect what happened in his shower, and he quickly decided he just needed to sleep more. He turned off the water and got out, wrapping a towel around his hips and shaking his hair.

Pent up stress swirled in the water in the tub and then disappeared down the drain with a gurgle.

**_ _ _ **

**Hello all. I know, I know. Took you long enough, I was waiting, you're gonna lose reviews taking so long.**

**It took forever to write this one, merely because I was trying to incorporate Sylar in the shower with the Sylar in his head.**

**And his fantasy!Claire. In case you missed the Italics/No italics, that was the best of both worlds going on right there. Also, I would like to point out, before some one goes pointing it out to me, that Claire's name is not neccisarily used that much in this chapter. Fantasizing willingly about her is a breakthrough for Sylar. He's still not totally comfortable with the idea of who she is, hence the lack of a name. **

**I am a creature of annoying details. ANYWAYS! Read and review, my darlings. Please! I desperately crave reviews, and when I begged last time I got them. **

**Much love and smutty content. ( hart! )**


	5. Sound

Claire watched the flaming Boeing on the TV screen, watching with sharp green eyes as she sat up straight and wound her long blond hair up into a ponytail.

Her mother was cooking, stirring some dry ingredients around in a large metal mixing bowl. She was talking to Muggles, who was dancing around her ankles, barking at the sound of the whisk on the sides of the metal. Lyle was slumped in his chair, eyes fixed on his cell phone as he texted with both thumbs. His gameboy lay beside his plate on the table, paused mid-war.

"Who are you texting?" Claire demanded, eyes still on the screen.

"Chelsey," He grunted, not looking up. Claire tightened the band around her hair and cast him a frown before looking at her mother, who was putting her dry ingredients into an even bigger bowl with the wet ingredients. Claire sighed and poked a spoon into her uneaten cereal.

"Who's Chelsey?"

"My girlfriend, Cheerfreak."

"Oh, that's a really original insult, Lyle."

"Can you not break my concentration?"

"What concentration? Is that the only thing you can actually focus on, you narrow minded-,"

"Whatever, Claire."

"Whatever, Lyle."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

"You shut up first, Barbie."

"Don't call me Barbie!"

"HEY!" Their mother snapped, narrowing her eyes at them as she stirred. They both fell silent as Lyle finished his text and snapped his phone shut and picked up his gameboy and Claire went back to prodding at her breakfast. Mrs. Bennet oversaw their silence for a few seconds before bending over and hushing Mr. Muggles while he continued to yap.

Claire glanced at Lyle and he caught her and glowered at her. She shot him a dirty look and he shot her one back.

"And quit it with the stinky eyes," their mother added, holding the little dog and jostling him comfortably.

"She started it," Lyle complained.

"I did not! Mom!"

"Enough. Lyle, don't you make any plans Saturday. You're going to Glenmore to see Dr. Hicks. I reminded your father he needs to be there too, but he left on a trip this morning."

Mrs. Bennet said, checking the calendar.

"I don't want to go see him. Can we re-schedule?"

"No. We can not. And if you break your arm again, you'll go with your bones poking out."

"I dunno, Lyle. Breaking your arm to avoid going and seeing your shrink. Doesn't that mean you need help?" Claire said, needling him again. Mrs. Bennet sighed and rolled her eyes, turning around to let Mr. Muggles out the back. Lyle took the opportunity to suckerpunch Claire in the arm. She hissed at him and smacked him on the head back.

He pinched her and she managed to get one last jab to his shoulder in before Mrs. Bennet turned around and Lyle resumed playing video games and Claire watching TV. She looked at them suspiciously, as if they would give any telltale signs that they had been beating on each other when her back was turned.

Neither moved, Claire spooning soggy food into her mouth, and Lyle's face glazing over catatonically as he got sucked into the game.

She shook her head and picked up the now empty dry ingredients bowl.

"Now, Claire. Before you get home later, could you possibly stop by that cute shop down by-"

BANG.

Mr. Muggles ran head long into the glass door, as he'd taken to doing lately. Mrs. Bennet shrieked, and the huge metal bowl dropped, clanging to the floor. The sound exploded as the metal reverberated on the tile echoed throughout the room, a hollow continuous sound of ringing metal and the low scoop sound of the bowl grinding against the ceramic floor. The sound hit Claire's ears loudly, and seemed to pierce into her brain. Claire's mouth fell open as the sound echoed down her spine and all her nerves sparked in response. She shivered as it died away, and the bowl stopped spinning.

"That dog!" Mrs. Bennet growled, picking up the bowl and slamming it on the counter before stomping to the door.

It seemed to give off a high pitched gong sound, and Claire's mouth fell open as her mind jumped to visions of Sylar.

_The headlights barely pierced the darkness 10 seconds in front of them. _

_He seemed completely at ease, one elbow on the window and fingers splayed lazily over his temple while his right hand was placed on the bottom rung of the steering wheel. Claire sat stiffly, at a loss as to what to do now that she had grown impatient with her electronic Sudoku game and snapped it off. _

_They sat in silence, and she glanced at him. _

_He stared out the window, dark eyes fixated on the outside world, and his strong jaw was relaxed and seemingly bored. He was drumming his fingers on his forehead. He had long, strong fingers. They were an example of his body. Long, and lean and lanky. He would have been a really skinny little kid. She studied him, forgetting she was staring. She sucked her lips to one side, taking in his dark hair and the way his colouring seemed to be a complement to the constant black ensemble he was always in. _

_He would change the shirt, but not the colour. _

_And in this heat, he'd ditched the sweater. She had regretted climbing into a car with him almost immediately. He'd come strolling casually across the parking lot at the last gas station they had visited and her mouth had gone bone dry. He was wearing some fitted black pants, cinched smartly over his narrow hips with a small black belt, and topped off by a pec-hugging black wife beater. He'd tossed his standard issue SylarSweater into the backseat before shutting himself in the car with her. And she had firmly clamped her thighs together underneath her thin white sundress. _

_But now, looking at him, her eyes could slip down his chest, noticing the sinewy muscle and sleek limbs. The man was built like a walking heart attack. And he was oblivious to his affect on females. _

_"Are you done?"_

_She started, snapping her eyes back up to his face. He hadn't moved, not a twitch. His eyes were still trained softly on the road. The only indication he wasn't comatose was the smirk lifting one side of his mouth._

_"What?"_

_"Are you done? Looking at me? What are you doing? Sizing me up?"_

_"Yes. I could take you."_

_A definate smirk twisted his mouth and he muttered something about bodies and being designed that way. Claire frowned._

_"What?"_

_"Hmm? Nothing. Are you done inspecting me? It makes driving difficult when I can feel your eyes and everywhere they go." He commented blandly. Claire's face flushed hotly, and she sat back in her seat, pressing her shoulder blades into the cushioning. She looked out her window and he drove, and they sat in what was called an 'uncomfortable silence'. _

_Well, Claire got the feeling she was the only one uncomfortable._

_"How many powers do you have?" She queried randomly._

_"That is debateable."_

_She resisted looking at him. Instead she picked up her braid and inspected the ends for split hairs. He shifted and her eyes darted to him. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. She shook her head at herself and sighed, looking at him and forcing herself to assume her conversation face._

_"What's the one power you use least?"_

_He thought about it for a second, his brow wrinkling._

_"Why are you asking me?"_

_"Because I want to know. And what are you going to do? Kill me?" She asked him, dropping her head to one said and shooting him a crooked smile. He sighed and rolled his eyes. Both of them had their windows down and warm air ripped through the car. It smelled of hot sand outside, and she knew out of any place in the world, she was safest in this car. With this homicidal maniac._

_"I don't know. Some things I've taken I have merely because they called me. I have one power I could use at anytime if I put a certain inflection on it, but I always forget to about it. It's not instinct, so it never gets used," He said plainly. She couldn't help but notice the way his lips moved when he talked._

_She slammed the brakes on that train of thought immediatly. _

_"What is it?" _

_He smiled this time, punctuating it with a small chuckle and brushing his palm along the tips of his hair as he watched the road. Claire stared at him, shifting to face him in her seat. She waited patiently for a beat before shaking her hands in frustration. _

_"What is it?" She repeated anxiously. _

_"I can't explain it. You get the wrong idea." _

_"...Is it demonstratable, or would it blow this state into oblivion and us along with it?" She questioned, now truly intrigued. _

_He sighed at her answer, and she knew then he didn't want to demonstrate, or even explain. She wiggled in her seat with frustration and complained._

_"C'mon, Sylar. You know you want to show it off. What's the worst that could happen?" _

_"It's not the worst I'm worried about," He retorted. She didn't get it, and shook her head at him to indicate so. His response was to smile into his fingers as he drove. Claire smacked him on the arm, once. Twice. Three times. When she wound up for the fourth blow, he caught her hand as it descended and yanked her forwards, putting it on the steering wheel and holding it there. _

_Claire squeaked and almost instantly complained._

_"It's not nice to hit people." He chastized. _

_"I'm only hitting you because you're not telling me what you can do. I want to know." She grunted at him, trying not to look straight down into his crotch as her brain reminded her of his 'feeling her eyes' comment. He chuckled, and she tried not to recoil from how close the sound was. She turned her head and looked up into his face, mouth open a little with the effort. Her seatbelt was cutting into her stomach. _

_"You're positive you want me to demonstrate?"_

_"Well, if it involves limbs being shorn off, then not so much."_

_"It does not."_

_"Then, please. Release me and proceed." _

_"You don't need releasing."_

_She suddenly tried to pull her hand back, frantically trying to tug it free from under his. _

_"No! No! Let's not fry, inject, poison or electrocute__the invincible girl, shall we?" _

_"Relax," He said with exasperation, and she reluctantly stopped moving. She swore up and down that if all of a sudden she had bugs crawling under her skin a la 'The Mummy', she would tear his head completely free of his deliciously wide shoulders. Edible body be damned. He leaned closer to her and she heard him take a deep breath in._

_"Claiiiirre," He said in a low, muted singsong voice. The sound hit her like butterfly wings, and her skin erupted in goosebumps as all of her nerves seemed to explode and sizzle. She shuddered involuntarily at the effect, and he let her go. She fell back into her seat heavily, her skin dancing sensitively. Her nipples had budded and pinched under her dress. Her mouth was open, and she was gaping at him as her blood started moving normally again, instead of staying in spot and boiling._

_There was silence. He looked decidedly amused, and she fought with herself, her brain going in a million different directions and her skin crawling in the best of ways. _

_"What...what was THAT?"_

_"Sound manipulation." _

_"...What does that do?"_

_He shrugged his shoulders and gestured towards her with a loose palm. She pointed to herself and raised her eyebrows. _

_"That? That was...That's your power? Seducing people?" She sputtered. _

_He frowned quizzically and looked at her fully, his expression one of confusion and amusement. She slapped a hand over her mouth as she realized what she said, her cheeks heating and her mind kicking itself. He laughed again._

_"That was seduction?"_

_"No! That's not what I meant! Not seductive. More like...uh."_

_"Seduction. Hmm. Normally, it blows doors off its hinges, but I guess that once applied in a different situation..."_

_"No! That was the wrong word. The right word is, uh -," She said helplessly, searching fruitlessly for the word as her fingers snapped at her face so she'd think quicker. _

_"Not seductive. Erotic?"_

_"Yes!," She paused a beat and then realized what he'd suggested before shrieking; "NO!" _

_He was openly grinning at the dashboard now, an expression she'd never seen him wear. It was a wide, adorable smile that revealed well-cared for teeth. She glared as darkly at him as she could while she tried to come up with a plan. He glanced at her again._

_"Claaire," He sang out again, and she felt it dance over her skin like raindrops and resonate inside her skull. All the nerves in her back seemed to shiver. He was watching her as closely as he could, between her and the road. The intrigue on his face was readable, and she opened her eyes almost immediately after they slid shut and wrenched her mouth open. _

_"Claire," He said with a slight guttural intent. As soon as those waves hit her ears, it shot straight down into her belly and spread hotly throughout her insides like warm milk. _

_"Don't -," She started as she resisted squirming. _

_"Claire," He seemed to purr, and this shot straight down her spine to throb between her legs as her name seemed to ring in her ears, sounding as if spoken by a long-lost lover in the height of passion. She threw up her hands as she attempted to steady herself, and took a deep calming breath. _

_"Don't do it. I get the picture."_

_"I wasn't trying to convey any picture, just a -,"_

_"Shut up."_

_For once, he heeded her words and slouched in his seat with an evil smug expression. Claire scratched lightly at her arms, trying to rid her tingling skin of the sensation that he'd left. She tried to reason with herself, or logically explain why he'd had the effect. She cleared her throat and settled into her seat. _

_She rolled her head to the side to look at him._

_"Where'd you get that?"_

_"What?" He grunted._

_"The...ability."_

_"You're uncomfortable with the term 'power'," He observed lazily, looking at her briefly. Her eyes met his, and half his face was hidden in shadow. He lifted one corner of his mouth as she shrugged one shoulder._

_"It's too comic book-y."_

_He laughed out right._

_"Have you MET Hiro Nakamura?" _

_She rolled her eyes and grinned despite herself. _

_"Hiro is an exception. That's his name." _

_"Oh, don't point that one out. You'll shock everyone," He replied sarcastically. She giggled despite herself, raising her hand to cover the smile. Mentally, she kicked herself for the girly move. If there was one way to prove her hair colour fit the label, sitting and giggling like an idiot was the sure-fire way. Instead she cleared her throat and gave a little cough. _

_"What did it do?"_

_"What did what do?"_

_"My 'ability'," he clarified, taking his hands off the wheel for a few seconds to use air quotes. _

_Claire undid the end of her braid and began to re-braid it carelessly. _

_"Uh, I don't know. It tickled I guess." _

_"It tickled," He echoed, his voice giving away that he didn't believe her in the least. Claire wound up the ends and snapped the elastic band back on, securing her new braid. She nodded and made a noise of agreement as she brushed back her bangs and folded her legs into a lotus position on the seat and gazed out at the barely visible landscape. _

_The clock on the dashboard switched its number to 3:00. _

_She didn't see him look at her, and she didn't see the scheme erupt behind his eyes. She was hit with waves of heat, roiling over her skin and making her muscles clench and dance pleasurably as her eyes rolled back and her core throbbed. They swam through her ears and made her head spin, and a cry fall from her lips. She wasn't even sure what he'd said, but he'd said it as a moan, and it felt like being dipped in a bucket of lust. _

_She fell forwards slightly as her body relaxed, and splayed her hands on the dashboard, whipping her head around to look at him with wide, shocked eyes and flushed cheeks. He looked at her, and the expression on his face told her he knew exactly what he'd just done to her. She pushed herself upright and stared at him, her whole body thrumming and her mind going a million miles a minute. _

_He looked at her, and jerked the wheel to the right, sending the car to a halting stop on the side of the highway._

_"What are you -," Claire gasped as he cut the engine. She didn't get to finish her question as he unbuckled her and grabbed the front of her dress. He hauled her towards him over the gear shift, and she slid into his lap, straddling his legs instinctively as he brought her face down and possessed her mouth with a frenzied movement. _

_Shock coursed through her as she felt his lips moving against hers firmly, and her body slowly softened and a fire deep in her abdomen flared violently. With a strangled sound, she grasped the sides of his face lightly and kissed him back. She fought back against his mouth, biting his lower lip gently and flicking the tip of her tongue against his lips. She felt him smile into the kiss, and felt his hands encircle her waist. Her own fingers slipped down his chest and bunched in the fabric of his pathetic excuse for a shirt. Her body was coming alive, her nerves lighting again and her muscles tingling. _

_Freeing her mouth, she pushed his back against the seat and attacked his collar bones with short, punishing nips. Her fingers traced the line of his neck, finding his pulse and feeling it thrumming madly beneath the skin. She kissed it, sucking the soft skin and hearing his soft gasp. His hands went to her thighs, splaying over the bronze skin and sliding upwards. He bunched the dress up around her hips, and slid around to her ass to give it a heady squeeze. Her forehead wrinkled and she moaned softly into the tender past of his neck where the skin met his ear. She wiggled on top of him, inching up his legs to press flush against his torso. _

_Wetly, she enveloped the lobe of his ear and then ran the tip of her tongue up the shell, dipping it into his ear on the way back down. He groaned throatily at the ceiling of the car, and the noise shot straight down her spine and caused her skin to heat and a whimper to escape her lips. Her mind was swimming, and her hands groped blindly at the hem of his shirt, tugging it free of his pants. He kissed her roughly, raising one hand and pressing against the back of her head as he explored the inside of her mouth. She pulled the material up his torso, exposing his pale skin and the dark trail of hair running from his shallow bellybutton to disappear underneath his pants. She broke away from him with a wet sound and attempted to pull his shirt up. He raised his arms obediently, looking her dead in the face. She looked courageously back at him, haughtily recognizing the fact that she was goading a lion. His hands fell to the straps of her dress and pulled them down her shoulders, his fingers running over the smooth skin with a tentative touch that made her bite her lip as she yanked the shirt free of his head and tossed it carelessly into the back seat. _

_He tried the top button of the bodice of her dress, buttons tiny enough to give even her small fingers a hard time. He gave up with a growl of frustration and ripped the top part open, letting the buttons scatter over the dashboard and on the floor. She found his mouth again hungrily, searching it out and devouring it like it was her life source. _

_Her hands splayed over his chest, fingertips brushing over the soft ovals of his nipples and teasing them with soft circles into hard nubs. He caught her lip in between his teeth and laughed wickedly at her when she whined and shifted. She reached down beside the seat and grabbed a lever, giving it a hard pull. His seat reclined completely, and he fell back on it with a muffled sound of surprise. She unbuckled him and carelessly swung the belt aside, hearing it clatter as it hit the window and then re-coiled into place. He had tried to sit up, and she planted both hands on his shoulders and pushed him back, sweeping forwards and dominating his mouth again as her nails raked in lazy figure eights over his skin. _

_He breathed and his muscles twitched and bunched as she scratched. _

_She got to his belt buckle and pulled on it playfully. He grasped her hips and pulled her down as he arched up to meet her. The hard bulge of him pressed easily against her own sex, her underwear and his pants separating them tortuously. Claire's senses were beginning to lose it, taking over her as she gave up and moaned as she ground down on him. _

_He gave her a lopsided smirk, arched and asked; "Does that tickle?"._

_She shot him a reproachful look and lifted herself up, slipping her hand between them and grabbing him through his pants. He hissed her name this time, and the sound entered her ears and seemed to echo all through her body in a delicious thrum. Her breath fell through her lips heavily as she fought the instinct to flex her hips, and punished him by squeezing and moving her hand. He bucked, and his hands pushed the fabric of her dress aside exposing her breasts. Claire gasped as he sat up and pushed her back against the wheel, palming one breast and attaching a hot mouth to the other, sucking gently and then flicking the nipple with his tongue. _

_She grunted and grabbed at his head, holding him against her as her head fell back. His hand slid down her body, fingers finding her sweet spot through her underwear and rubbing lazy circles over it. Claire hastily mumbled something and undulated her hips slightly, before freeing one hand to seize his fingers and gently guide them the way she needed. _

_He hit livewire nerves, and they twinged pleasurably, causing her legs to twitch and her brain to scream for more. She whined at the ceiling as she let go of his head and leaned back. Neither seemed to hear the short bursts of the horn as Claire bumped against it. Frantically, he pushed the underwear aside slightly and dipped the very tip of his finger into her, and she swore out loud as she felt him slip in and then slip out. He sat up and met her eyes, his characteristic head tilt and half-smile directed at her as she watched with open bruised lips while he put the finger into his mouth and sucked it clean. _

_She shivered._

_"I was right. You taste better than you smell," He whispered at her, and she cried out as her skin seemed to tighten around her pleasurably and she twitched like he'd just flicked a finger over her clit. _

_"Stop with the voice thing," She gasped raggedly as he reached back down and wiggled his fingers against the cotton barrier covering her. _

_"Why?" He breathed and she moaned with frustration and pleasure as her stomach tied itself in knots and a new wave of heat spilled between her legs._

_"Because, my skin is going to crawl right off," She murmured at him darkly. _

_He raised an eyebrow and nodded his head from side to side like he was considering the options. _

_"I guess that's a valid point, Claire," He said, saying her name with as a low growl. She writhed again with a helpless gasp, and pitched forwards to snare his lips again. His moaned giggle was swallowed in her mouth as she fisted her hands desperately in his hair and rocked down against his hand. _

_He rucked her dress up further, and she reached down between them and undid his belt with shaking hands. He broke free from her and leaned over, opening the door. Claire shrieked and clung to him as he wrapped his arms under her butt and climbed out of the car with her, slamming his door and pressing her back up against the closed back door window. With the car lights off, and no other activity on the highway, in the middle of nowhere, the only light was the ominous moon looming above them. Sylar's eyes seemed to glitter lustfully at her as she secured her legs around his narrow hips, and still worked her hands between them to undo his pants. She pushed them down and then used her feet to force them completely down over his butt, hearing the belt clink on the dirt at his ankles. With desperate fingers, she wrapped her hand around his shaft and he nuzzled his face into her neck. _

_He whispered her name, dragging it out as she bit down on her lip while her body shook and arched and her crotch throbbed fiercely. With one finger, she dragged the pad across the tip of him and smeared the bead of fluid that had appeared and he bit down on her neck, causing her to jump. _

_"Sylar," She gasped and shuddered as he moaned a response in her ear and her skin erupted into goosebumps. He moved his hips, pushing himself through the fist she had wrapped around him and she tightened her grip and pulled him, rotating her wrist as she moved over his head. He forgot his ability and groaned outright. _

_"Sylar. I want...please...," She muttered, and he pressed her firmly against the car and grabbed the waist of her underwear. She grabbed at his hands and protested._

_"No, no. Don't bother. Push them over." _

_He chuckled at her words and she shushed him impatiently, using her own hands to pull the underwear aside and trying to lead him into her. He shifted as he balanced her weight and what they were doing, and his body shook as his tip found her opening and the wet welcome. He gently sealed his mouth over hers, and she slipped her eyes closed and let him feast on her lips as she held him and guided him into her while he filled her with one fluid thrust. He pushed in until he was to the hilt, and Claire whimpered as she felt herself stretched wonderfully to accommodate him. He created a comfortable friction, and her foggy brain was issuing simple one word commands such as 'faster' and 'more'. _

_He breathed shakily as he pulled out and thrust back in. She could only pant and beg for more. He picked up a pace, moving in and out of her furiously. The friction built a frenzied pressure in her nerves and her body clenched and fluttered as he moved. Her head fell back, and she looked up at the stars as they slammed together, Claire's legs locked at the ankle around his narrow hips. She could feel the muscles of his ass flex against her calves with every thrust. Above her, as her lust blind eyes took in, stretched an infinity of amusedly twinkling stars. They seemed to shimmer and dance as she cried out for more and one hand pressed on his shoulder, and the other slapped helplessly on the roof of the car. _

_Their skin glowed softly in the moonlight, and she could only smell the heat of his skin and the gentle spice of his hair. _

_He raised his head and his lips were slightly parted, hair in his eyes as he concentrated on moving. She touched the side of his face and wiggled and met his thrusts, and he locked his eyes with her. He gave her a secret smile, and her stomach flipped over as her brain recorded that expression permanently. She smiled back at him, their breath colliding in the small space between their faces. _

_He moved with sharp thrusts, punctuating it with a whispered affirmative. _

_With every yes that fell from his lips, her nerves lit up and seemed to scream and spark like live wires, and she cried out and tried to force the thrusts back. The feeling was building, and it seemed like her skin was coursing with pleasure and her nerves were writhing upon themselves, and the dam of pressure unfurling in her pelvis was starting to build. Her mind clamped down on the sensation, and she let her head fall back on the car as she tried to ride to the edge. _

_"Oh, Claire," Sylar grunted with a husky voice, and it seemed to kiss her skin and her cause brain to seize as she fell into white. She went rigid and screamed his name at the sky while he whispered her name to her skin as he came with a series of erratic thrusts and whimpered grunts. _

_And when she opened her eyes again, it wasn't metaphoric stars she saw smiling back at her as she wrapped her arms softly around the tired man trying to catch his breath against her. _

"Maybe I'm not the only one who needs a doctor," Lyle commented with a disgusted expression as Claire blinked and straightened up.

She looked around and found both Lyle and her mother watching her with curious faces.

Mrs. Bennet was holding Mr. Muggles, who was licking something enthusiastically from a spoon she held. Claire shook her head slightly, and felt her face flush again as she shifted and a definite longing twinged between her thighs.

"I asked you about five minutes ago if you needed anything for dinner this weekend when we take Lyle to the doctor," Mrs. Bennet said, noticing Muggles' interest in the spoon and pulling it away with a scolding. Lyle raised his eyebrows at Claire and leaned forwards.

"And then you went all brain dead and stared at the wall over there. We both called you like, five times. And they say I need the sessions." He told her with a sneer. She returned the scowl three fold, sitting back and crossing her arms and refusing to be embarrassed.

"Shut up, Shrink Wrap. I'm just tired. I have a big Biology test today, and I wasn't listening," She told him scathingly, looking at her mother. Lyle made a face at her.

"Speaking of original insults..." He muttered, pressing buttons on his gameboy and becoming absorbed. Claire ignored him, focusing on her mother.

"Uh. No. I don't think so. Something to eat maybe? That would be good," She said weakly, as her mother watched her with eyes that seemed to know her every secret. The older woman didn't say anything, nodding and giving her a smile before turning on the blender. It roared to life, blending the strawberries and other ingredients into a swirling pink mush.

Claire abandoned her cereal, leaving the table and leaning against the wall in the hall when she was clear of the kitchen. She sighed, and held up her hands, which shook. Her skin was still singing from the sounds he made, and the feel of his body in and against hers. She pressed a hand to her forehead and took a deep cleansing breath.

Sex with Sylar 'sounded' good. A dumb smile hit her lips and she gave up the smart girl routine.

She leaned against the wall and giggled.

**___**

**HELLO, MY LOVELIES.**

**Alrighty, so. That was the sound manipulation chapter. I sort of struggled with it (hence the reason it took so long to write) because the sound ability Sylar has is normally used to do nifty not-so-sexy things like peel flesh from bodies and destroy things. And I'm pretty sure I'm the first one to actually write this power, in this context. So it was a bit of unexplored territory, but I think I did an okay job. **

**Anyways, I have a notification to make to you all. There is a grand total of THREE chapters left in this story, I'm sorry to say. And don't worry, the best chapters are to come. I tried to keep Sylar in Sylar-ish mode, combining Claire's fantasy verison of him, with her perception of him and coming up with a mouthy hybrid. There's always particulars. Anyways! I love you all, read and review and I'll see y'all later. **

**HART!**

**Shoutout to my beta: courbeau**


	6. Elektricity!

Sylar liked not having to drive.

He reclined in his seat and thought deeply, ignoring the world flying by and the trucks roaring past. He had a few options, and his mind was picking and choosing as it wanted, not really set on one direct path. Sylar had never mentioned that he had acute ADD when it came to choosing what to do. A 'crossroads', as books commonly called it.

A hero at a crossroads.

He laughed to himself, and if Luke could have possibly sat up any straighter and gripped the steering wheel any tighter without melting it, he did at that moment. Cocking an eyebrow, Sylar glanced at him. The boy was sitting up so straight, his back wasn't even against the seat, and his fingers were wrapped so tightly around the wheel that if they had to make any sharp turn, Sylar thought his hands wouldn't release and his arms might snap off.

'White knuckle driving' was an understatement. The kid hadn't said a word to him since yesterday. Not one annoying question, not one annoying sound. Sylar had a suspicion Luke was even consciously breathing differently so his lungs didn't do the noisy whining thing. If the kid wasn't fully functional, he hid it well. He just didn't make any noise.

Not that Sylar was complaining.

If the walking microwave wanted to sit there and drive the car like a suicide driver going to his death, that was fine by Sylar. He had Cheerleaders to contemplate.

Idly, he put the corner of his thumb in his mouth, gnawing gently on the nail. Costa Verde wasn't very far away. Well, it was over a two day drive, but Sylar had Mr. Rigid over there to do all the wheelwork for him. She wouldn't know what was coming. He wasn't going to rape her, and the fact that that is what he appeared to be considering made him blanch and deflect the thought. He wasn't a rapist. A sociopath, maybe, but that depended on which side of the law enforcement you sat on. And Sylar himself sat above it, government be damned.

And the label 'sociopath' was so...criminal minds. He'd seen that show, and had decided that he'd like to open the young doctor Reid's head and have a peek.

Plus, labels were constricting. 'Sociopath' implied that he killed everyone, and that simply wasn't so. It wasn't a sickness, it was a hunger. A form of a hunger, a thirst for knowledge.

Sylar classified it as an eating disorder of sorts.

More hunger, less actual 'eating'.

Wheeze.

Sylar flicked his eyes at Luke, who seemed to have relaxed slightly and was watching the road with slightly glassy eyes. Checking to make sure the car was in the right lane, Sylar returned to his thoughts. She wouldn't be happy to see him, as usual, but she'd have to get used to it. They were possibly the only two people on this planet who were going to live forever, and the planet was a small place to be perfectly honest. It was like New York. You could go years without seeing one another, and then randomly discover you live next door to one another.

Fate just seemed to like shaking things up and throwing all of the usual 'Hero' types together. With him. The cosmos had a crap sense of humour.

But, he didn't even have to reveal himself to her.

He could just watch.

Maybe steal something.

Wheeze.

Sylar twitched as Luke breathed. The boy saw the movement and looked at him, eyes wide open. Sylar sat himself up straighter and crossed his arms and fixed Luke with a 'spit it out or I'll shake it out' expression. The boy glanced at the road and gulped. They sat in silence, and Sylar could practically feel the very carefully assembled tendrils of patience fraying like old rope. He slit his eyes, impatience gnarling his insides.

He didn't have anger issues.

Just frustration issues. Anger and frustration were two very different things. They just produced the same effect. Luke glanced at him nervously.

"Spit. It out. Now." Sylar snapped.

The kid hesitated, and Sylar twitched again. Hesitation bugged him. He hated people who hesitated, who couldn't make up their minds even while they were doing something they hadn't made up their minds to do. It demonstrated a severe lack of control which everyone should have. Especially over themselves. He believed you contemplate everything before you talk about it, not during. If that means you have to think fast, then brush up on your sudoku and make sure you have the mental capacity. He raised his eyebrows and leaned over.

"I'm waiting."

Luke sucked air in his lungs.

"I heard you."

"You heard me what?" Sylar asked archly, struggling to keep a smirk off his face. He watched the war go on in the kid's head.

"I heard you in the shower. I came back to the room."

Sylar appeared to consider for a moment, nodding his head thoughtfully. He looked at Luke and couldn't help the horrible smile that bled onto his face.

"I know."

Luke looked slightly relieved and nauseated at the same time, and Sylar settled back into his seat comfortably. Luke jerked the wheel, and the car squealed off the highway, clear off the shoulder and into the dusty grit beside the road. Luke looked at him, sweat on his brow.

"I...I'm going to go for a walk. I need air. You...You'll wait here," He said flippantly. Sylar's

eyebrow shot up so fast it nearly lost its brakes and continued into his hairline.

Luke fumbled with the door and got out, leaving the door open.

Lazily, Sylar rolled down the window and stuck his head out.

"What makes you think I'll wait here for you?" He called. Luke turned around and shrugged his shoulders and made a face.

"You don't think I don't know you went out last night and burglarized the nearest government building? You haven't slept. You'll lay there and go to sleep." Luke shouted back. Sylar's ears pricked as he thought he heard the words 'lazy' and 'dick', and he smiled widely.

"Okay. Well. Have fun in the dessert. If I take a nap and then decide to drive away, I'm

going to go to Costa Verde. I have a friend there. You can hitch a ride with a trucker and meet me," He yelled back almost conversationally. Luke laughed at him, kicking at the dirt.

"A friend? You actually have friends? What is he? A serial pedophile who can turn people inside out? Wait. Do you guys actually have like a little club? A gang?"

Sylar rolled his eyes. The kid thought he was out of mutilation zone, so he was going to sit out there and say mean things to make himself feel less neutered. Which Sylar was okay with, if it provided some interesting conversation.

Which it wasn't. He waved his hand dismissively.

"Go on your little nature walk. I'm going to take a nap and go. Look up the listing for Bennet and I'll be at one of them. Maybe getting bent over a dashboard by a hauler as pay for a trip to Costa will teach you what a nice person I really am." Sylar remarked, leaning over and slamming the driver side door before he cranked his seat back and plopped down in it. He didn't bother waiting to see what direction the annoying teenager went in, settling down instead and propping his ankles out the window.

Contented and actually tired, he settled down in his seat and glanced at the crappy clock on the radio.

1:17.

"Better get going. It's gonna get hot out. You might miss the interesting wildlife." Sylar called, and heard Luke call him a series of names that revolved around masturbation and stomp off muttering. Sylar sighed, and officially decided Luke was bi-polar before turning his head and sinking into sleep.

_He could hear the shower going._

_Her room was empty, her clothes strewn around the room where they'd left them. He stretched and felt all his muscles pull luxuriously. _

_That nice post-sex burn in his thighs twinged and he smiled like a Cheshire cat to himself. _

_Wearing boxers only, he idly scratched his stomach until he caught a whiff of something floating out of the bathroom. _

_Oranges. _

_Or Satsuma. Whatever bullshit name women had for 'oranges' that made it acceptable to price things outrageously. _

_He could feel the fog from her shower spilling from the open bathroom door like a wicked cloud of scalding and alluring oranges. _

_Water and soap and fruit. _

_He paused for a moment, contemplating. Did he REALLY need to walk around all day smelling like he'd accosted a woman in the shower?_

_Logically, his mind said no._

_The feral pervert in his mind grinned and said yes. _

_Common sense said that he should answer his mental query logically, which naturally meant Sylar went with the feral pervert. Life was more fun that way, and he reasoned that he should be allowed a little leeway. _

_He thought too much with the head on his shoulders. He should really let the other one lead the way._

_He crept towards the door, treading lightly and listening for the shower._

_He could hear the hiss of the water, and the quiet hum of her voice as she sang to herself. Carefully, he pressed his hand against the door and drew it open wide enough for him to slip into the room. It was like a heavily perfumed sauna. _

_Except inside he could smell her shampoo and conditioner and whatever else females used to make their bodies soft, supple magnets of lust for men. The mirrors were all fogged up, and mist swirled around him. He inhaled, and the hot air settled wetly in his lungs until he exhaled. _

_He noticed a bottle and a round disc tub sitting on the counter. He cocked his head and read the labels._

_'Deep Moisturizer."_

_He smirked and briefly entertained jokes about deep moisturizers._

_'Body butter'._

_He smirked wider and dismissed the revolting amount of one liners he could create with that product name._

_Another thing about women he didn't understand. They get in the shower, scrub themselves down and even buy soaps that have itchy little 'exfoliating' beads to scrape their 'unhealthy' skin off, and then they get out and promptly slather themselves from head to toe 'moisturizing' goo, and then seal it all in with 'body butter'. _

_Granted, watching her apply it was a completely different and enjoyable topic. He stopped, visions of Claire with one leg up on the corner of her bed and running her dainty little hands up and down her calves, rubbing thick white cream into her skin with tiny, careful circles. _

_He jumped slightly at the sound of a bottle top being popped open._

_He glanced at the shower and then doubled back. _

_Her shower curtain was clear. _

_He watched her foggy tanned outline rub its hands together and then run them through her hair. His eyes followed her shape, from her arms, to the gentle slope of her breasts and the full under side, down her ribs and stomach._

_His eyes slid over the slight womanly curve of her lower stomach, and reverted to her ass and the round shape perched over toned thighs. Her lower back cinched in and then gracefully swooped outwards gently and up, disappearing under the mass of water-darkened hair that she was working to put something into. _

_His mouth was dry, watching her move and how her body worked when she wasn't aware anyone was watching. _

_She moved differently. With less faked grace. _

_He could see her breasts jiggle as she shook another bottle onto a fluffy ball in her hand. _

_The jiggling movement that all the females he'd been with despised and hid. All of them were completely oblivious to the fact that jiggle is actually what men look at. _

_Mouth open, he watched silently as she lifted an arm and began to scrub at her body. His skin seemed to heat and shiver as he watched her run it down her side, leaving a trail of soap. Claire twisted slightly, the soapy thing running over her hip and down over one butt cheek. _

_She hummed, and it bounced off the walls. A low, husky sound to a faint tune he didn't know. Slow, and melodic._

_He watched her run soap over her butt and as far up her back as she could reach, before returning to the other arm and scrubbing down it. _

_He could feel himself filling, coming to life with a warm feeling. With a wicked smile, he stuck two fingers under the waistband of his underwear and let them fall free. They barely made a sound as they hit the floor. _

_Like a shadow, he snuck to the shower and pulled the curtain back enough for him to slip in. _

_Claire saw the curtain shiver as he closed it, and she turned with a frown, jumping and shrieking as she saw him looming above her._

_There was a squeak of skin on tub, and she started to topple, but he reached out and caught her before she slipped. She glared up at him as the spray of the water hit him sharply, and her hot skin melded against his cold body. _

_Her wet cleavage shined as it pressed against his chest and suds moved lazily downwards into the crevice. He throbbed, enjoying the feeling of her pressing so closely up against him, skin on skin._

_"What the hell are you doing?"_

_"Showering. What are you doing?"_

_"Having my shower invaded?" _

_"Isn't it nice?" He whispered, and she rolled her eyes at him. He let her go and she glared at him as he held her steady and snuck around her to get to the water. _

_It was hotter than he liked, the spray spitting like fire and his skin reddend angrily in response. He tipped his head back and let it soak his hair, and run down his body. Pressing his hair back, he glanced at her and found her standing in front of him, with her arms crossed over her slick breasts, loofa still in hand. _

_He offered a quick smile and gesutred to the sponge with his eyes._

_"Can I borrow that?"_

_"No," she replied vehemently._

_He shrugged and lifted his arms, holding them out as she raised her eyebrow and clutched her arms tighter around breasts he'd already seen. _

_"I guess you'll just have to wash me, then."_

_"Oh, yeah? Mango satsuma is your type of soap? Wait. What if the loofa remembers me washing you, and goes and tattles on us to the towels?" She sniped, looking every bit the sullen teenager._

_Her hair was brown in the shower, and it was plastered to her cheeks and neck, and clung in wild snaking tendrils to her collarbones. Her eyes were__guarded, and he smiled winningly at her as he reached for the loofa._

_"Well, as long as word doesn't get back to your sheets, I'm sure everyone will be okay with it."_

_"Everyone being?"_

_"Me." He answered with a slight shrug. Her eyes drifted down his wet torso, and her forehead wrinkled with amusement as he stood still and let her look. He was able to peruse her body while she was busy ogling him. _

_She was all tanned skin and flowing curves, and his eyes beelined from her perfect belly-button down to the tiny cleft between her legs. _

_She looked up at him with a smile playing at her lips. _

_"All of you, apparently." _

_Sylar rolled his eyes. She had a small smile playing on her face, and he relished in the moment, a perfect opportunity to make her blush and squirm. She always started out tough and wound up gasping for more at the end. _

_"I can take care of that. Just move back a bit. And give me a couple minutes -," He started, reaching for the bar of soap and lathering a hand that he gripped himself with as he bit his lip. Her eyes widened as the implication of what he was doing set in, and she watched with a look on her face that was a cross between confusion and shock. Her mouth fell open as he started to move his hand and he closed his eyes and picked himself as rhythm. _

_He leaned his head against the tile wall and gasped softly as pleasure roiled through his pelvic region like boiling mercury. _

_She watched for a few seconds, raising a hand to block the water from her face that escaped over his shoulder as he angled his body. _

_"Sylar, stop -," She began, going red in the face and making a meagre attempt to cover her body. _

_He moved faster, making sure the sound of his hand reached her ears. She was covered in soap, bubbles gliding down her wet body teasingly, and he twitched and throbbed in his hand. _

_"Claire. Oh god." He groaned theatrically, arching his hips._

_"Stop it! Okay! I'll wash you. That is what you do when no one is in the shower WITH you!" She admonished, grabbing the offending arm at the elbow and pulling him away from the wall. _

_"Can I wash you?" He asked with a insinuative expression. She slit her eyes at him and raised her chin._

_"I'm clean." _

_He smiled and moved closer. She didn't move, fixing him with a wary stare. He twitched a smirk at her as he swooped in and gently caught her lips. _

_Her body was rigid, and he melted his lips over hers, moving them gently and coaxingly until he felt her hesitantly relax under him. _

_She started to respond, and he kissed her more firmly, insisting she follow suit. Claire did, pushing herself closer to him and dislodging her arms from between them. Her fingers slid into his hair, and he felt the brush of the loofa on his arm as she lifted her other arm and wrapped it loosely around his shoulders._

_He broke the kiss with a light wet sound and hovered inches from her face. _

_"I can fix that. I could dirty you again." _

_She kissed him this time, moving in and catching his lips with more vigour than last time, and he lost himself in the feeling of her soft body willingly matching his, her lower stomach pressing against the length of him. Her slick skin made him pulse and flutter as it slid against him, and he resisted thrusting against her stomach. _

_His nerves lit up as their bodies slid against one another like they were oiled, and her nimble fingers found his nipple and tweaked it gently. She broke away and lifted the loofa, pushing it against his chest and then running it in gentle circles over his chest. _

_She met his eyes with her own shyly and she gave him a quick smile as she scrubbed his chest and wove back up and cleaned off both his arms. He watched her intently as she set about her task, scrubbing his stomach and flanks and down his hips. _

_He watched bemusedly as she avoided the very prominent feature between his legs and soaped up his thighs and calves. Sylar let his eyes flutter closed. He liked the feel of the loofa on his skin, gently scratching and soothing at the same time._

_She moved down around his ankles and then back up his shins. His eyes opened and he watched as she slid back up his body, pleasure flashing across his face as her wet breasts encompassed and passed over his erection with a wet bounce. _

_Her eyes had darkened, and she gently wrapped her hand around him and gave the head a quick twist. Sylar hissed as his hips jerkily thrust forwards with pleasure and she let go with a crooked smile. _

_Gently, he took her shoulders in his hands and turned her against the spray, letting it hit her back and the water run over her shoulders._

_He knew she was watching him follow the water as it ran over her nipples and between her breasts. He watched the streams of clear water snake and twist down over the panes of her stomach, and the smooth waves and webbings it made as it evaporated or spread out. _

_He glanced at her with hooded eyes as he leaned down as gently enveloped a nipple in between his lips. Claire gasped slightly, barely audible over the hiss of the showerhead and the tumble of water onto the tub floor. _

_He watched a rivulet of water run down her breast and he let go as it slid down and beaded on her nipple. He smirked and gently stuck out his tongue, barely touching it._

_Claire jumped as the tiniest electric shock coursed through her breasts. Sylar's lips tingled deliciously, and he watched her nipples bunch together further. He glanced up at her and found her staring at him with wide eyes. _

_"What was that?" She gasped._

_Careful to hide the grin on his face, he attacked her neck and bit down and laved the skin there. Gently, he palmed her other breast, feeling her body willingly arch into it. He let it gather in his fingertips and let a shock course through her as he tweaked her other nipple. _

_Claire jumped with a muffled moan and turned her head towards him. Wordlessly, he enslaved her lips, parting them and invading her mouth with his tongue, sparking in her mouth._

_She twisted her hips and he grabbed her waist, pressing himself against her to remind her what she was sliding over and the fact that he'd like nothing more than to have the insistent, almost desperate craving satisfied. _

_Ignoring his warning, she ferociously kissed him back and slithered against him. Sylar's mind was spinning out of control, his control slipping away into the mist clouding the air and the water running down his face. _

_The hot spray was coursing over both of them as he pressed Claire back against the hot tile and outlined his lips with the tip of her tongue. _

_Soap slid wetly down her thighs, transferred from his legs and being carried smoothly by the water cascading down over them. _

_He turned his head as she kissed up his jaw, and her hot mouth enveloped his ear. His nerves and muscles seemed to writhe as she moaned gently in his ear, and all the hair on that side of his head stood on end. _

_Craftily, he placed one finger on her spine and then gathered the hair plastered to her back before giving it a squeeze. A river of water snaked down her back and he spine, and he let a stronger shock erupt from his fingertip._

_He knew the electricity caught the water and arched up and down her spine like a frenzied monster, as Claire cried out and her nails dug into his back while she shuddered and squirmed against him. _

_He could feel all his pores tightening as the electrical power coursed underneath his skin, not only making him itch in a way he couldn't scratch, but driving him onwards. _

_His erection weeped against her thigh, and all the muscles in that area were coiled and poised to thrust as the urge to do so clawed up the back of his skull and made his brain shut down. _

_Pressing her flush against the wall, he gently kissed her and let a course run through his skin and leap through water droplets to make her skin shiver and crawl. He attacked her skin, tasting the slick taste of water and her body. Gently, with every open mouthed kiss he attached to her skin, he shocked her and she jumped with every one. _

_Sylar mouthed her breasts and the expanse of her flat tummy, dipping his tongue into her navel and watching her cry out and jerk her hips. He knew from a past experience with a med student that the nerves in a woman's belly button were directly connected to her clit, so as he worked further down he put a single digit in her navel and made a come-hither motion with his palm facing up while he shocked her. _

_Claire's mouth fell open and her forehead wrinkled as her body jumped and hummed and she watched sparks and bolts jump from his lips to her skin and light it up with something far more stimulating than just fire. __As he drifted further down her body, he could smell her. It was an intoxicating, liquid smell that smelled of her and musk and water. __He touched a bead of water running down her thigh and pushed a current into it, watching the trend fly up the trail and watching her muscles bunch and her tongue lick her lips as she bit back a moan. _

_Quickly, he steadied her and then slung her right leg over his shoulder. Claire gasped and grabbed at his shoulders, before throwing her head back as he delved into her with a tongue and two fingers. __He pushed his fingers into her, elicting a moan and a jerk of her hips when he shocked her. She clenched around him as he circled her clit with the tip of his tongue, and she milked his fingers desperately. _

_He jolted her with his tongue and Claire shuddered as he worked her, fingers picking a steady rhythm and curvature, emitting a steady beat of sparks. __She was all wet, but a special type of wet that was different from the water coated her folds and he greedily cleaned it up as she gasped at the ceiling and bucked against his face. __Sylar relished in the helpless clenching of her thighs as she whimpered his name and her body fought with itself for what to do, interrupted by regular shocks. _

_"Sylar, stop. Come up-," Claire breathed frantically, grabbing his head and pulling him up. Her leg fell off his shoulder as if forgotten completely and he pressed his lips against hers, knowing full well she could taste herself on his lips. The fact that she clung to him and kissed him back hungrily made him shudder. Her hand reached between them and grasped him. _

_His skin shocked her and she groaned his name as they both jerked. The flare from the electricity burned his skin deliciously and his nipples seemed extra sensitive to her skin. _

_His breath was coming out in gasps as he held still and closed his eyes while she stroked him, the water coursing over them providing different sensations. He could hear the movement she was making, and he sunk into the feeling of the pull and fall of her hand as it twisted, and he fingers rippled against his sensitive flesh. _

_He moved his fingers within her in a scissor motion before he withdrew and she mewled, her hips making tiny figure eights in an attempt to stop him. He looked at her, and she had water in her eyelashes, clumping them together. Her lips were parted and slick, and her body had an unreal slickness and softness to it. _

_Claire pulled him closer to her, and she spread her legs slightly. His muscles were vibrating and his body shook as he tried to restrain himself. _

_She arched her hips up, and he groaned out loud as he slid along her sex._

_"Do it," She bit out at him._

_He glanced at her and she raised her chin haughtily._

_"Do it now." She said, holding him against her and he unconsciously arched as she pressed his tip against her opening. He shuddered and breathed heavily, his skin shocking them both and causing them to whimper as one. _

_Claire brought her leg up further, wrapping it over his lean hip. She wiggled and then gave up and bit him._

_"DO IT! Now!" She barked desperately, her voice cracking slightly. He grunted and slid his hands around to her ass cheeks and cupped them as he lifted her slightly. _

_He made sure to shock her with his palms as punishment for demanding, and she only keened and rotated her hips against him. She was practically dragging him into her, and Sylar pinned her against the shower wall and let go of her to grab her wrists and pin them up beside her shoulders. _

_"You need to learn patience," He growled, thrusting into her roughly. They paused to gasp, Sylar's eyes rolling into the back of his head as she fluttered and clenched around him. _

_Small popping and clicking sounds met their ears, and they both twitched and gasped as electricity leaped from his skin to hers, and ran along the water between their bodies, scorching and pinching in its wake. _

_His muscles were screaming and his mind was nowhere to be found as Claire kicked the back of his thigh with her heel and he moved in and out of her. _

_Blue veins of power danced over their skin, enveloping their bodies as Sylar picked up a quick but rough pace. _

_His hands slid up from her wrists to her palms, and she laced their fingers together as she kissed him harshly and moaned. Bridges of electric shock jumped from his lips to hers when they parted, and the currents ran over their skin, tickling and pinching and tantalizing their nerves dangerously. __He could hear Claire whispering his name, punctuated by the moans and sighs zapped out of her by the surges pulsating between them. Sylar was losing the semblance of control he had, falling into slower, deeper thrusts that made the moist air in their lungs rush out with a soft sigh. _

_The sound of him moving in and out of her echoed, along with the wet slap of their skin, and the snap of the electricity and the sound of the water spraying out of the showerhead. _

_The blinding blue veins spread from their bodies, moving through the water on the bottom of the tub and arching hungrily up the walls. Sylar was losing his composure as his muscles started to seize and his mind jerked from __image to image erratically. __The energy pouring from them filled the room, and the air started to crackle and the lights started to flicker. __He could hear Claire whispering, urging him on in hushed, desperate tones. He could feel her fingers, soft pads of skin sliding down his back as the power ripped up and down in merciless shocks and pinches that set his brain on fire._

_"I can't. I'm going. I -," He grunted, and then shuddered as the bubble of pressure erupted and his body went numb. _

_He heard her guttural cry as the power coursed through her, and his mind went blank._

Sylar's eyes opened, his mind becoming aware of the oppressive heat smothering his body.

Contented with his nap, he stretched and sat up, blinking at the harsh sunlight. The sun had moved in the sky, and was now flooding the car with its blister-inducing heat.

Casually, Sylar scanned the horizon for Luke and found nothing. A satisfied smile consumed his face and he idly pressed his fist into his hand and cracked his fingers, before repeating the same process for his other hand. He then stretched again, before slipping into the next seat and scoffing at how close it was to the wheel. The kid really was stupidly short.

Grinding the seat back, he took a moment to remember how to get to Costa, checking to rear view mirror and turning the car on. The radio crackled to life, and he winced and turned it off.

Radio static was a waste, and it gave him a headache.

And now he had a plan. Things to do. Blondes to go see. Maybe she had a diary he could peruse. He'd seen things in her head he knew she wasn't aware of, some little wrenches in her perfect little hero vision of herself.

It would be interesting to know how much she actually lied to herself. The heat was causing sweat to make his shirt stick to him, and it beaded on his forehead as he reverse and pulled and illegal U-turn on the highway.

Shifting gears, he smiled to himself and took off. Part of him hoped Luke had taken his advice about the truckers.

Another part hoped the kid was cactus food.

Irritably, he set off on his little plan, tugging at his shirt to de-stick it from his skin. He smirked to himself as he settled back in his seat.

He might have to borrow her shower.

~*~*~*~

**My loves, darlings, and wonderful muses! **

**I apologize for how long this took me to write. My life is hella busy, for those of you who haven't read my profile (which I update semi-regularily!), for this is Grad time. And I have a million and a half things I have to do. **

**Fear not! You guys are high on my list of priorities. Therefore; I dutifully write for you! I had an interesting time with this one. There are far too many quirks and subtleties for me to explain, but it adds to their characters and how they think.**

**Plus, I'm not really a fan of shower sex for some reason, so it was an adventure. I had help (read, inspiration) from the new Star Trek movie. Which was actually really good. I highly recommend it. 2 hours and 7 minutes of Zachary Quinto. Yum yum yum! Plus, the flurry of interviews and public appearances I got to watch also lend me some ideas for Sylar. **

**I have to give credit to my wonderful and talented beta editor: courbeau. **

**I am also issuing a quick shout out to my good friend Marvin, who helped me with LOTS of the points and ideas in this chapter. You should be grateful to him as well, for putting up with my invasive questions. **

**READ, READ, AND REVIEW! Ilu you all. **


	7. Lies

Claire stared down at her Law homework, her mind completely blocking out the words 'maternity leave' and the explaining paragraph. Her fingers twiddled the pencil and the pages seemed to glow harshly. She shifted on the stool, and distantly heard the clock above the muted TV ticking.

With her mother and Lyle in bed, Claire was perched at the kitchen counter on a barstool with the TV flickering in the background and one single light on above her.

Midnight had come and gone.

She was nowhere closer to finishing this essay. She groaned and rubbed her eyes. Her mind was being completely disobedient, and she was having problems focusing for longer than ten minutes.

She nearly jumped through the ceiling when the back door opened and a dark figure slipped in.

He put his briefcase on the counter and turned around, mouth opening briefly in shock as he saw Claire. He relaxed and rolled his eyes, unbuttoning his coat and shrugging it off.

"What are you doing awake?" Noah Bennet asked her, folding his coat over his forearm and leaning over the counter to kiss her forehead.

She pointed down with a twisted mouth.

"Law. Remind me to never make such a stupid choice when it comes to courses." Claire replied dryly. He chuckled, patting his pockets for keys and then tossing his jacket on top of his briefcase before cracking the fridge door.

"What did you have for dinner?" He asked, muffled as he stuck his head in. Claire rolled her eyes and smiled to herself.

"Cabbage rolls."

He backed out almost immediately and let the fridge swing shut. She thought she heard him mutter 'ew', but she couldn't be sure. She could never be sure. Claire tapped her pencil as her father opened the cupboard and withdrew a box of crackers, which he read with a wrinkled forehead and skeptical expression. He held the box up.

"Seaweed crackers," He answered to her inquisitive expression before putting the box back and inspecting the shelves. Claire laughed softly to herself. She chewed on the question, phrasing it carefully in her mouth.

"Did...you get them?"

"Who?"

"...Whoever you were after?" Claire specified with exasperation. He looked at her disapprovingly. He sagged slightly, like the weight of the world had returned to his shoulders. She shifted uncomfortably.

He sighed and crossed his arms, standing in front of her and looking like he didn't want to be having this conversation, eyes darting to the stairs to look for eavesdroppers.

He sighed heavily again and she resisted prompting him.

"I was sent out west. I was to find a woman with a unique ability that had been documented in her as a child. It was...a really interesting skill," Mr. Bennet admitted with a faraway look and a wrinkled brow.

"What was it?" Claire asked innocently.

He looked at her narrowly, searching her face for something.

"She could tell when people were lying. Her skill was lie detection."

Claire spent a good 10 seconds controlling a comment revolving around their family being blessed she didn't have that ability. She glanced at her hands and back up again, shaking bangs out of her face with an elegant head toss.

"How did she know? Did people light up or something?"

"No. It would tickle her. If enough people were lying it would paralyze her. Her brain wouldn't be able to sort the stimulus."

"Cool," Claire said enthusiastically. Mr. Bennet shook his head. Suddenly Claire realized he was talking in past tense. Her blood stilled slightly, and her ears pricked up. She put the pencil down and arranged her face into a mask on nonchalance.

He sighed again, wiping his face with one giant hand and knocking his glasses slightly askew.

"I was too late. WAY too late. Sylar had gotten to her so many months before. I wondered how it was no one knew she was dead."

"...Sylar?" Claire squeaked, nervously brushing the back of her neck with her palm as she feigned an itch. Mr. Bennet didn't seem to notice, lost in his own dark and demony world.

"So, that means Sylar can tell when we're lying. Well. That explains a lot." Claire intoned flatly, rolling her eyes and tugging listlessly at an earring.

"I think you're done studying for the night. You can't do anything during the day if you're up all night staring at the granite countertop," Mr. Bennet said decisively. Sensing the discussion was formally closed, Claire slid off the stool and waited as her father rounded the island and bestowed a kiss on her forehead.

"Goodnight, Clairebear."

She flashed him a winning smile.

"G'night."

She turned and scampered off up the stairs, taking them two at a time as the smile wiped itself from her face.

~*~

Claire lay in bed again, covers heaped at the foot of the bed and her hands tucked underneath her head. She stared at the ceiling, listening to night noises and watching the water reflections ripple and wiggle on the ceiling. Sylar could tell lies from truth without even bothering to think.

Part of her brain revelled in what a liberating life that would entitle a person.

Another thought about what a trap of lies and deceit that would expose.

Her mind wandered to what it felt like. She was always curious about other powers and what they felt like. Would it tickle like a tickle on her skin? Or an itch in her brain? Would it hurt? Would it affect her whole body?

She briefly thought about how it could paralyze her. Claire cocked her head and bit her lip slightly as her eyelids fluttered and leadened.

She huffed and settled into a reluctant sleep as her mind made images and potential situations.

_It must have been a good ten degrees colder in the cell. And dim as all hell, with one humming fluorescent light ticking and flickering above the viewing window. The simple cell was bare except for the bed against the wall. Cement floor, cement walls. _

_And no one behind the viewing window. Claire walked to the middle of the room, looking around like it was Buckingham Palace. Her flats sounded hollow against the floor, and she felt goose bumps erupt under the denim of her skinny jeans. _

_She looked over the man sprawled on his back on the tiny bed. His legs spilled out over the floor, and he was watching her with clouded and angry eyes. He wore only a pair of white inmate pants, which were more like crappy white scrubs. _

_She could see the skin expand and contract over his ribs as he breathed heavily, and her eyes followed the hair on his chest trickle down to his bellybutton and then shoot down past the knot at the waist of his pants. He was watching her like a dying snake watches curious animals survey the damage and sit to wait for death. _

_And the look in his eyes promised vengeance. _

_He lifted his head as she smiled sweetly at him and wiggled her fingers hello. Sylar slit his eyes furiously at her, muscles in his neck causing him a wobbly position. _

_He was obviously drugged beyond recognition, suppressing his aggressive abilities and muscles control. He was drugged worse than a tranq'd elephant, but still cognizant of her presence. _

_"They sent you in here to torture me? Because you can't die?" Sylar asked boldly, his voice coming out stronger than Claire had anticipated. It was deep and scratchy and full of loathing. _

_She tossed her ponytail and put her hands on her hips. _

_"Why would they want to torture you? You're weak and useless anyways. They could just drug you to give them the answers they want," Claire reasoned, pacing back and forth in front of his bed. She avoided looking at his body. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his muscles clenched and struggled as he breathed and watched her move. _

_"Just because they can? Or did you come in here for revenge?"_

_Claire raised an eyebrow._

_"Revenge? Did you kill someone I care about recently?"_

_"Probably. You care about everyone." He said nastily. She ignored the comment, and the way her skin seemed to tingle when it came close to his. Claire focused her brain and maintained control. _

_"So. How does an invincible man like you wind up floundering for air like a beached whale here?" She asked, stopping and facing him with an innocent smile. _

_He managed a narrow eyed smirk momentarily. _

_"So, let me get this straight. You kill because you have a hunger? Like a woman wanting chocolate?" Claire continued, ignoring his facial warning signs. He was apparently trying to struggle through the drug induced haze. _

_She searched fruitlessly for something to make him mad._

_"Have you ever been in love, Sylar?" She asked, and he stopped for a moment to focus on her with an open mouth and guarded eyes._

_She smiled._

_Perfect. _

_Casually, she flounced over to the bed and perched beside his sprawled body. Claire chuckled to herself and folded her hands in her lap._

_She looked him over and clenched her jaw, glancing to the other side of the room and shaking her head slightly._

_She looked back down at him and found him watching her. _

_"Did they strip you down merely for my viewing pleasure?" _

_He managed to tilt his head to one side and curl one corner of his mouth as his eyebrow twitched. He glared back at her seconds after that, one expression melting into the next._

_"It's possible." _

_"Does it bug you that I only have one power and I stand equal to you?"_

_He sneered at her, breathing heavily. She could see goose bump cropping up in his skin and wondered how much drugs they had really given him. _

_"You're no equal to me."_

_Claire sighed and sat back, putting an arm out behind her and leaning all her weight on his stomach. He grunted thickly, and she watched his body writhe sluggishly. Like a worm that had been trodden on. She sucked her lower lip in and flashed him a surprised expression. _

_He coughed slightly and smiled tersely at her before rolling his eyes. _

_"Comfy?" She asked._

_He didn't answer her. Claire considered her options. Out loud. _

_"You see. I could just hit you. And hit you. And hit you. Until my palms were splitting and you were plenty annoyed. Or I could go find a gun or something and prop you against the wall and use you for shooting practise. I think I'd like to see someone else's body spit out bullets. I could molest you. Pull down your pants and cut off what you can't grow back," she told him, smiling down at him and waggling her eyebrows. Power thrummed through her veins, watching as he struggled to keep himself conscious and breathing properly. _

_"If you're supposed to sound threatening, you're not doing a very good job. At least someone else would have something good to hurt me with other than a gun and whatever spare pipe you find in the hallway." He ground out furiously. _

_Claire nodded thoughtfully. _

_"Well, thank you for the constructive feedback. I think we can make this time together work." She chirped at him with a cheeky wink. She pushed off him, standing up and pacing the room again._

_He groaned and weakly pushed himself up and further onto the bed. Slumping against the wall. _

_Claire idly paced the room, wondering what she could possibly do to him. To be honest, her threats were pretty much all she could come up with. _

_He was as untouchable as she was. _

_Her mind brightened considerably and she clapped her hands together. The drugs only clouded his aggressive powers. He could heal just fine. Which meant he could also detect lies just fine. _

_She rounded on him, thinking deeply as she advanced on him. He put his head against the wall, dark hair sticking up erratically from all sides of his head. He looked thoroughly shagged to be perfectly honest, and she ignored his long fingers and obvious abdominals. _

_She stuck her tongue in her cheek, not being able to resist a smile as she swooped down and looked him dead in the face. _

_"I never knew I was adopted," She whispered at him. His eyelids quivered and a muscle in his cheek twitched._

_With wide green eyes she studied his face, a curious smile erupting on her own._

_"Did that feel funny?"_

_He didn't say anything. _

_"I passed Spanish with flying colours." Claire tried again and he visibly twitched this time. His eyes seemed to quiver for a second as well, and she slapped her open palms onto her thighs and laughed to herself. Idly, she turned and slowly paced to the opposite wall, one finger in the air triumphantly. _

_Sylar shakily stood up, forgetting his bearings and stumbling across the cell and bracing against the wall. _

_Claire turned and watched him half-hazardly, still smiling over her discovery._

_"My real dad is a friend of yours." She called sweetly and he shuddered slightly, breathing shakily. Claire giggled to herself, following him around the cell as he felt along the walls and attempted to stay ahead of her. His bare feet slapped on the pavement. _

_"Oh, I hate seeing you like this. All disoriented," she cooed with an exaggerated pout. He gasped quietly, clumsy footsteps teetering him along the wall as the power worked again and he shivered._

_Unabashedly, Claire studied his tight butt in the white cling of the pants. She smiled to herself, the control over him and ability to weaken him making her nerves tingle and her skin flush._

_"You never wanted to please your father." Claire announced and he shuddered and threw a weak hand in her direction._

_"Shut up," he growled, back tensing and releasing as he breathed deeply. Claire ignored him, fascinated. _

_"You always saw yourself as a nobody. And you liked it." _

_He jerked slightly, shuddering again and rounding on her as steadily as he could. He glowered at her fiercely._

_"I said SHUT UP." _

_"Because you want to beat me into a pulp?" Claire teased him innocently._

_"Once these drugs wear off, I'm going to rip you into so many pieces you NEVER regenerate." He barked harshly. _

_"You were a popular kid in school," Claire sneered and he shut his eyes and wrenched his jaw closed as he fought the shake that slid down his body. _

_Sylar's head snapped up after that, and she took a couple steps towards him. _

_"You always got to be with the girls you had crushes on," She spat at him and he heaved out a muffled grunt, shakily stumbling to the bed and falling on it, rolling onto his side and propping himself in a sitting up position against the wall. _

_Claire laughed evilly to herself, biting her lip and looking at him._

_"Your mother thought you were normal and loved you for it." She whispered. _

_Sylar's head jerked like he'd been slapped, and even as his muscles shook he screamed at her. _

_"SHUT UP. SHUT UP."_

_"You're not Sylar!" Claire shouted over his screams at her. His yells were cut off by a shrill noise gurgling from his throat as he tilted his head back and his hands twitched. _

_They were silent, both breathing erratically. Claire watched with stilled interest as he fought to attempt to control his power. _

_She approached him slowly, watching his fingers and the way his eyes stayed closed and lips parted. Feigning exhaustion. _

_She was far from done with him, and she leaned down, invading his personal space. She knew he could feel her body close to his and she could smell him._

_He smelled of plain soap and musk. And cement. _

_She could feel the heat from his skin radiate onto her face, and she watched his nipples tighten and bud right there. _

_She took a deep breath. _

_"You lost your virginity early, I am not a cheerleader, I don't have a brother, you have a sister, you hate watches, I love horses, I don't want to be here in this cell," she whispered quickly, rushing it out in one breath. _

_His fingers spread and then dug into the bed as he shook. He wrenched his head to the side, clenching his jaw shut and a weak groan slid from between his lips. Claire watched with fascination as his body seemed to roil and spasm, but he seemed to remain still. _

_"That is too cool." She declared once he stopped moving. He was gulping down air and looked at her with dark eyes. He had the shadow of a beard dusted across his face, and something with the way he was looking at her made something in Claire's gut ping hotly. _

_"How we all change. You like to do this to me?" He rasped out challengingly, raising his eyebrows and sitting up shakily. Claire's lips thinned as she realized the implications of his question and she immediately resented him for asking it._

_Sylar's face split into an open mouthed smug grin as he watched her eyes spit daggers at him. He cocked an eyebrow and let his head roll against the wall slightly, keeping his dark brown eyes locked with her darkening green ones. _

_"Silence is as incriminating__as answering," He whispered at her. _

_"You want me," Claire lied flippantly at him. _

_He just looked at her, the smirk still in place. Claire's body thrummed in surprise as her comment didn't make him twitch or shiver. _

_Her mouth fell open. _

_He lifted a shoulder with a cavalier expression._

_"Boys will be boys," He told her. Claire rolled her eyes, but her heart was beating and thumping inside her ribs. Her mind formed plan after plan after plan, and she was drowning in ideas and torn between courses of action. _

_Something in her whispered for her to just go with. Play up her instincts. And her instincts were telling to do the exact opposite of what her mother would like her to. Her mouth had gone distinctly dry and she ignored the way her skin was flushing and the apex between her legs was warming. _

_She sighed out loud and flipped her hair. _

_"You know what I think?" She asked out loud._

_"Five minutes with Matt Parkman and I would." _

_She ignored him again, drumming her fingers on her chin as she whirled around and surveyed him. He just sat there, slumped against the wall, all sweaty and dirty and weak. He still managed to sound Sylar, and look Sylar. _

_She walked up to him, standing between his knees and leaning down to put her hands on either side of his head on the wall. She invaded his personal space, and she watched his nostrils flare and his eyes travel her face. _

_She was so close to him she could feel the humidity come from his skin and she could see the 5 o'clock shadow on his chin and the long, dark fans of lashes around his eyes. _

_"I think that this whole situation sucks. I think that this was a huge mistake, and I wish I'd never come in here. I wish I could watch you bleed and scream, and I wish that I could make your blood wash the walls and your eyes fog over," Claire told him venomously. _

_His body arched under hers, and he clamped his lips shut as he gurgled and groaned. Even as he shook, he kept his eyes locked with hers. _

_She laughed softly at his violent reaction. He breathed through his nose, and remained perfectly still. Claire arched an eyebrow, amusement still on her face._

_"Does that hurt you or something? Tickle? More than a pinch but less than paying your taxes?" She teased him breathlessly, moving her face closer. She was so close if she opened her mouth she could drag her lower lip up his jaw. _

_Sylar had turned his head and was looking at the wall. _

_"It doesn't hurt or tickle at all," He rumbled, and she could see him grinding his jaw. Claire brought her hand down and spread her cold hand on the hot flesh of his chest. _

_"Well, it does something."_

_A smile curled his mouth and he brought his head around so quickly she had to pull back slightly. He pressed his forehead against hers and she pushed him back against the wall. _

_"A little more than something." He informed her snarkily. He arched his hips up at hers, not nearly enough to touch her, but it drove the point home. _

_Claire flashed him a tight smile._

_"Boys will be boys."_

_Like lightening, she grabbed his throat with both hands and slammed him back against the wall. He choked and she held him back, feeling his trachea move and his Adam's apple bob under her palms._

_His hands flew up and grabbed her wrists. _

_"I want you to stay away from me." Claire breathed, and he choked hollowly, hands grabbing at her fingers as his body spasmed. _

_His eyes opened and he evened her look, totally calm as he choked. Claire brought her legs up to straddle him, sliding onto his lap and hovering inches above his face. She squeezed harder, gently leaning forward and kissing the tip of his nose._

_"I don't want to know you. I hate your face. I hate your body. Your voice makes me sick." Claire told him breathlessly. Sylar's body shook and jerked and writhed uncontrollably. Claire released his throat and he sucked in air, only to whine. His brow furrowed as he watched her and panted. _

_Claire gave him a knowing look and giggled at him infuriatingly. _

_"I don't want you."_

_He growled at her as he reverberated at her lie, and they both stared each other down, breaths lingering together and the space between their bodies heating quickly. _

_Claire could feel her body flaring up. Her breathing was becoming hitched, and she wanted to move herself against him to get closer. Only the look in his eyes kept her where she was, head cocked and her playful cheerleader grin in place as she studied his face like a child studies the family dog. _

_"I can give you points for creativity." _

_Claire snorted at him and her blond hair dangled over her shoulder between them. _

_"You have no idea." _

_"Oh, I'm sure I'll find out," He muttered back, air whooshing out of his lungs as she leaned against his chest heavily with both palms flat on his pecs. _

_Claire idly traced her fingers over the skin, feeling the warmth the flowed beneath paired with the hard muscles. Her fingers danced__through the hair on his chest, brushing over it tantalizingly. Sylar watched her face with hooded eyes while she watched her hands. _

_Her index finger traced the outline of the pink flat of his nipple, before flicking it gently. She hadn't noticed he had stilled considerably and was barely breathing, watching intently as she traced down his ribs and out over his flanks in tiny figure eights. Claire only had a mild idea of what it was doing to him, feeling his body shiver away and yet yearn for more as she passed over it. She drew in to his bellybutton, a perfectly round shallow indentation, different from her own. Next her fingers found slightly shorter hair in a dark trail leading eagerly beneath his pants. She stopped at the string,__fingers inches away from an extremity desperate for attention. _

_She looked back up at him, seemingly coming out of a trance. Gingerly, she lowered her hips down onto his and it took all his self control not to make any outward sign that the feeling of her jeaned groin pressed up against his throbbing one was coma-inducing. _

_"Are we a cosmic joke?" Claire whispered at him curiously. _

_Sylar raised his eyebrows._

_"You are. I am not. I made myself, remember? Thief? Bastard? Scum? Worthless? Murderer? Insane crazy guy with the interesting jigsaw finger?" He spelled out bitterly, and she all but pouted at him. _

_"I am not a cosmic joke on my own."_

_"Never aging jail bait that has a thing for men she's not supposed to? Seems pretty comical to me." He shot back at her. Claire felt stung, and any compassion she may have had for him flew out the window. The need to overpower him flooded her, and she sat up and crossed her arms over her chest with a severe frown. _

_"And here I was trying to be nice." She snapped._

_"Try harder," Sylar oozed back with a lippy sneer. Claire slammed him against the wall again, crawling up his body like a panther. Her fingers buried into his hair and pulled his neck aside as she attached her lips to the thin skin on the underside of his jaw. _

_"I want you to keep your clothes on. I don't ever want to touch you again. I don't want you to touch me in so many places at once that I scream," She drawled, bringing out the last word in a throaty whisper as he wrenched his hips violently underneath hers and a helpless gasping erupted from his mouth as the lies hit him like waves, thrumming through his head and echoing deliciously up and down his body. _

_Claire smirked to herself and used her tongue to taste the salt of his neck, drawing sassy loops and jagged dips with the tip, trailing up to his ear. Claire paused as he barely suppressed a word so she could whisper; "I don't want to have to take advantage of you." _

_The stilted moan that fell from him as she curled her tongue around his earlobe and sucked it into her mouth could have been from either the lie or what she was doing. _

_Claire was having fun, pinning him down and torturing him so. There wasn't anything he could do about it, and he was helpless to do anything but respond. It was a rush, feeling him so open and pliable to her when he was always the bad guy in the closet or the evil maniac with the five o'clock shadow and penchant for baseball caps. Claire was feeling the thrill shriek through her veins as her fingers roamed his skin, raking her nails every now and then while she whispered lies into his ears. _

_"I don't want you to kiss me," She told him, cupping his jaw and pressing her mouth against his. His lips were warm and eager to fight back against her. She broke away from him, fingers sliding through his already messy hair and tugging on the roots. _

_"I don't want you to want me," Claire growled to his collarbones as she attached her lips to him like a vacuum and sucked so forcefully they both knew she'd leave a temporary mark until it healed. She sat up slightly, hands fumbling for the hem of her shirt, which she found and ripped up over her head to reveal her bra. She watched his eyes devour her breasts, thrust so willingly up by lacy black cups. _

_"I don't want you to take my bra off and kiss me ways no one else has." She declared breathlessly, feeling his hands jerk and flutter as the lie coursed through him and then continue their dazed path up her back to grasp her bra and unhook the clasps. _

_His reactions were blending, the moans and groans and open mouthed gasps accompanying the jerks of his hips as he pressed his arousal up against her. The actual instinct and her ministrations combined with the feral pleasure of his ability as lies constantly fell from her mouth and mingled with the dirty pictures she was painting in his head. _

_Claire smiled as the bra fell away and she let her head fall back as Sylar besieged her breasts with his mouth and hands without hesitation. _

_Claire moaned, feeling her body throb and the slickness between her legs seemed to flare as his hot mouth enveloped her nipples and pulled and twirled and sucked in tandem with his hand and fingers. _

_She sunk her fingers into his hair and pulled his head back, moving her chest forwards and cushioning his collarbones with her breasts as she looked into his face. _

_"I want you to be gentle and kind with me." She purred at him and watched as his eyes sink closed and she felt the shudder rip up his back. _

_Claire easily navigated them to the side and moved him around with minimal help from him until he was flat on his back on the single and she was sitting atop him. _

_A blush had creeped under his skin and he looked hungry. Claire smirked at him as she lifted herself and climbed off. _

_Before he could do anything, she let forth a series of lies. _

_"I think you look horrible lying there. I don't even like you. I prefer blondes. I like being a bottom. I am wearing a purple thong. I hate thongs. I wish I were a brunette. I'm a virgin," Claire rambled out, leaving him to go rigid and groan through clenched teeth at the ceiling. His hands clenched the sheets and Claire deftly undid the string and yanked his pants down and clear off his ankles. _

_Sylar twitched and greedily sucked in air through his nose as little grunts echoed from behind his clamped mouth. _

_She had rendered him useless, and while she was tired of waiting for the effects to dim a little. Claire wrapped her hand around him, squeezing and pulling up and rotating her wrist so she twisted over the head. _

_His abdominals clenched and he jerked upright slightly, grunting at the sensation as it overrode his fading ability. _

_"Wanna know another thing?" Claire asked him with an exaggerated half smile as she leaned down over him, keeping her hand pulling and falling at a steady pace. His eyes were open and closed and on her and on the ceiling and he looked almost delirious. _

_As soon as she asked him, he focused on her with his heavy eyes, abused and swollen lips open dumbly. Claire grinned at him._

_"I hate giving head." _

_His hips jerked, and his head fell back as both hands planted themselves behind him and the elbows locked straight. Sylar yelled at the ceiling as he felt her lips slide over him and the hot wet wonderland of her mouth. Her tongue did wonders, swirling and dragging and making 'Z's and 'A's. Claire watched his face, and the way he kept his eyes closed and bit his lip and seemed to wince and wrinkle his brow as she worked. _

_His stomach muscles rolled and his thighs clenched and she watched as she had the most powerful man in the world shaking and gasping at the ceiling. She let him pop free, and knew he heard the wet sound from the flicker on his face. _

_"I think your abilities are stupid, and I would never even consider the fact that you might be fun to sleep with. Your eyebrows are big and unattractive. You're too tall to be perfect, and you're too skinny to be handsome. I think narrow hips and a small butt are ridiculous on a man, and it doesn't make you sexy at all," Claire singsonged, and the yell that came out of him as he collapsed and violently shook was angry. He was completely unable to move as the shock waves of her lies built and built until she stopped and then soaked throughout his body and made his bones hum. His eyes were open, watching her as he fought to control an ability that wouldn't bend to his will. Claire undid her jeans and stepped out of her flats and denim in one easy step, turning and glancing over her shoulder as he enjoyed her tan skin and round ass. She wore a simple white cotton thong, and she hooked her fingers into the bands and pulled it down, bending in front of him and kicking it off daintily. _

_She was bowled over, both of them slamming to the floor as he tackled her sloppily, muscles still fogged and weakened by drugs and confused by his ability. _

_She rolled, quicker than him. Sylar found himself on his back with Claire on top of him wearing a triumphant smile and nothing else. Claire's body was screaming, urging, begging for more. She was sure if she moved she would leave a wet trail on him, even though she was sure he wouldn't mind. All her instincts were chanting in her head, and the need to take him was driving her up the wall. _

_"Please," She gasped and he breathed shakily back at her. His eyes had darkened to an onyx colour, and his fingers were digging into her hips insistently. He looked surprised at her words before she revised it. _

_"Please don't make me do this. I don't want to do this." Claire choked out at him, angling her hips and lifting her pelvis to bring him to her entrance. _

_Sylar was caught in the lie as she sunk down onto him and they both whimpered. Clumsily, Claire leaned back and braced herself on his thighs as her eyelids fell shut over her eyes as the wonderful friction of being completely filled rocked her. That began to ebb as the mental screams for her to move, and move now, began. She clenched her thighs and lifted up before sinking back down. Sylar's hands were splayed on her sides, moulded against her waist as if he could stabilize her. Claire's hair slithered over her shoulder as she moved, and she watched him battle with himself about where to look, or if he should just fall into the feeling. _

_She was. The heat of him moving in and out of her was wonderful, the thick friction creating a tangible itch that she needed to get rid of. And itch that would build into a spasm which would mount into an orgasm and Claire desperately pumped faster, closing her eyes. _

_The only word pouring from her as she rose and fell and he watched himself disappear in her and how her breasts bounced while she worked, was no. It punctuated every thrust and every breath she took. Sylar spasmed and twitched and tensed and bucked and flailed as he was overcome with lies, and feeling. Friction and heat and wetness and how she gripped him. _

_Claire tightened her walls around him and quickly fluttered them as she sank down on to him. Sylar groaned her name, one hand falling free of her waist to slap against the cement floor. _

_"Claire. Claire. Tell me you hate me. Tell me everything," He demanded raspily, his brow furrowing and his head rolling slightly. _

_"I hate you. I hate you so much. I wish I had never met you. I never want this to happen again. I want you to die so I never have to see you again. I hope I never have to spend eternity with you," Claire exclaimed mindlessly at the ceiling. _

_The weak thrusts he was making to meet her were becoming erratic and his body was convulsing slightly as it built into an outright rigidity throughout his whole frame. _

_"Are you mine?" He gasped._

_"No," Claire grit out, rocking down on him. Sylar fell into orgasm with a bellow, his hips jerking up forcefully as he erupted and his legs vibrated and the veins in his neck stood out. He collapsed, body sweaty and gritty. The cell smelled of sex, and Claire slid off him and onto the refreshingly icy cold floor beside him. _

_They both lay there, panting and floundering for air for a good couple of minutes. Claire's body was relaxing, despite not having release. A semi-satisfied hum was spreading into her limbs and her brain was hazy. _

_With great effort, Sylar rolled over beside her and propped himself up. Claire whimpered as his fingers delved gently into her folds, parting them and then sinking down into her. He moved his fingers slightly, and she rocked against his hand without thinking. He withdrew two fingers and held them up for her to see. They were coated her clear juice and his cum. He pulled his fingers apart slightly and admired the mess they had made before glancing at her. _

_"Well. I guess I'm a believer in reverse psychology." He stated nonchalantly. Claire didn't know whether to hit him or laugh. _

_She settled for telling him to shut up. _

Claire jerked awake as her alarm went off. Startled, she slammed her hand down on the snooze button and then fell back against her pillows. Her room was muted warm colours as the pinks and golds of the sun rose. The house was silent, but she wasn't listening for it.

Her mind was focused on the amazing sex she'd just had in her dreams, and the strangeness of her behaviour. Her body felt heavy and satisfied, almost like it were cajoling her to go back to sleep and have round two, but Claire was having none of it. She flipped the covers back and stumbled from the bed, ignoring her hair and the blond plumes it stuck up in.

Opening the bathroom door, she stood and braced herself on the counter as her mind replayed the smells and sounds. She looked at herself in the mirror. Same round face, same green eyes. Blond hair that needed a wash and leave in conditioner. She didn't look any different, and she stood and wrapped her arms protectively around herself as she chewed on her thumbnail and thought deeply.

It wasn't the dream that scared her, or the role she put herself in. If she was honest with herself, being Little Miss Control was who she was in essence anyway.

What bugged her was all the lies she had been spewing to him she would have said to him in real life. It scared her to realize that her lies were really just that.

Lies.

**~*~*~*~**

**Haaaaai.**

**Alright. I just completed a semester's worth of Law work in six weeks, so I am a tad tired. This was actually a chapter I was looking forward to writing, and I think it turned out pretty well. This chapter written while listening to a variety of music, but the inspirational songs were 'Who's Your Daddy? – Benny Benassi (hot girl remix)' and 'Crazy Bitch – Buckcherry'. **

**As I'm sure most of you are aware, next chapter is the FINAL CHAPTER to this story. And I'm probably going to have some fun with it. So warn the nearest thing you're liable to take advantage of. (Do not read in class.) **

**So, I thank you again for all your reviews on the last chapter and I thank you in advance for all the splendid feedback you'll leave me this time. Right? **

**Shoutout to: courbeau. **

**ILYOUALL.**


	8. Wishful Doing

Claire had a headache.

The throbbing pain that covered the upper half of her brain and made her skull ache like it was on fire. She rarely got headaches, but when she did she became unbearably grouchy. Adding into the fact that she'd had a crap day that day, starting with falling out of bed that morning and the fact that right that second, her keys were simply refusing to open the door.

Frustrated, she kicked the door and wrenched the key. The door clicked, and fell open. Claire hit the floor before she could register what happened and then rolled onto her back to look at the ceiling. She glared at it for a second and then rolled her eyes before climbing to her feet and checking to make sure her blackberry wasn't harmed. Then she gathered her bag and books and dumped them on the kitchen counter, the yellow post-it on the fridge demanding attention. Rubbing her hip, Claire stomped over and snatched it off the fridge door.

'Taken Lyle to his doctor's appointment. Back later, chicken in the fridge. DON'T FORGET TO FEED MR. MUGGLES. Love you, Mom.'

She mimicked what she imaged her mother uppercase statement would sound like as she crumpled it and dumped it into the garbage. With a sigh, she clicked on the radio and called for the dog while she opened his food cupboard. When she straightened and opened a bag of food, she frowned. Muggles should be there acting like he wanted a good boot in the ribs by dancing around her ankles and biting at her toes. She listened over the mindless yammer of the radio for the sound of his toenails on the floor. Nothing. Claire grunted something in frustration, pouring the dog food out and putting the bag back. Deciding the dog was a lazy piece of fluff with teeth, she cracked the fridge and came face-to-face with her chicken dinner.

It looked shrivelled and cold, glazed in something Claire could only assume was meant for chicken meat. Peas and mashed potatoes accompanied the chicken, and Claire felt her stomach turn over involuntarily. She had had enough peas, the one vegetable she hated. The tang on the back of your tongue compared with the thinly skinned outside and pathetically mushy inside.

It was even worse if they were canned, because then they were just ridiculously mushy and bitter as well as being a gross colour. That type of green should not exist.

The fridge was kicked shut and Claire glanced at the bowl.

No dog.

She went up on her tiptoes and looked outside, expecting to see him pacing in front of the back door. She saw nothing and frowned, something on her neck prickling. Something wasn't right. Whirling on her heel, she whipped around as her heart pounded through her ribs. The room was completely empty, nothing having even stirred when she was turned around. It was just, in the movies it's always right when the main character clues in that they get attacked and killed. Frowning, she put a hand on her forehead and silently chastised herself for her idiocy.

"MUGGLES. GET DOWN HERE," She bellowed into the house, knowing damn well the little dog wasn't going to respond.

Claire moaned something about animals and being in trouble and clicked off the radio before she rushed out of the kitchen and swung around the corner, taking the steps into the living room two at a time.

The man sitting calmly on the couch stopped her dead in her tracks with a squeak.

He was tall, wearing a dark t-shirt and fitted grey jeans, right leg casually crossed so his ankle was resting on his opposite knee. She recognized him faster than she should have, and thousands of alarm bells went off in her head as the room spun and the ground seemed to whoosh up at her. Her earth seemed to spin and groan as her heart hammered its way up her trachea and her nerves absorbed the pulse wave of shock and adrenaline that coursed through her. She shivered almost instantly, curling her toes.

He barely looked up, ignoring her as if it was usual for him to be sitting in her living room flipping through her journal. Claire started, looking closely at the book as a volatile anger and embarrassment erupted somewhere around her navel. She stopped, forgetting to be afraid, and planted her hand on her hip.

"What are YOU doing here?"

He kept reading, eyebrows raised as he read the last few pages, turning the paper with his long, slender fingers. Sylar was as long and lean and dark as she remembered all power and sinewy goodness. Granted, her mind hadn't exactly retained the pure danger the poured off him in waves. He virtually emanated come-hither-vibes, combined with I'll-kill-you vibes. It was a perplexing mix, and Claire vowed over the bubble of sheer hysteria about not wanting her head cut open (again) that she would NOT think about sex.

At all.

Although, as he thumped the journal shut and put it on the coffee table the rage returned. She shook, her skin erupting in goosebumps as his black eyes slipped up to look at her and a self-satisfied smile slunk onto his face. Claire mustered her best sneer, trying to tug on one emotion so she could decide on a way to react.

"Hello. Good to see you again."

"Not really," Claire admitted with a flippant shrug. She wanted to snatch the book off the table and beat him with it until his was a bloody stump, watch him grow back, and then beat him again. He'd probably kill her before she could kill him, but she was so mad at that point she was willing to take a gamble.

"Have a seat."

"No."

He rolled his eyes slightly and lifted his hand, and Claire made a noise of frustration when he muscles stiffened and acted on their own, moving her in front of the couch and lowering her down facing him over the coffee table. With a twitch of the finger he even impishly crossed her leg, and she felt like her eyes might fall out she was glaring at him so hard. He seemed rather aloof as he pointed towards her journal, and Claire's cheeks flamed hotly again.

"I've never tried to turn dust to gold. Interesting idea."

Claire could spit venom, and her heart was pounding so hard she could feel the blood rush through her veins in her neck. She wanted to leap across the table and rip his head off, and she wanted the couch to swallow her up. She'd always been adverse to writing in journals for this very reason, and knowing that he'd read through all her lusty thoughts about him made her clench her jaw and grind her teeth. It was an embarrassment and humiliation worth dying over.

The muscles in her chest seemed to burn and curled, and she started to grind her teeth.

A smirk twitched on his lips as he leaned forwards and braced his elbows on his knees and she felt the telekinetic hold free her. She sat forwards and plunged her hand into her back pocket, whipping out her phone as her thumb already started pounding the speed dial for her Dad. His arm shot out, easily covering the distance over the coffee table and his warm fingers wrapped around her wrist whilst his other hand plucked the phone from her hand. She snarled at him when he held it up behind him and the phone melted into gold with a slight muffled cracking sound.

Now a solid chunk of gold, Sylar tossed it onto the couch cushion beside her and she yanked her wrist free as the skin seemed to warm and sing under his touch.

"Why do you bother with the dumb things? I always wondered that. You're not going to PHONE someone," He said with a trace of exasperation. Claire levelled a nasty look his way and lifted her chin.

"I wasn't going to phone anyone," She lied impulsively.

His eyes flickered and he seemed to shiver minutely and Claire's stomach turned to ice. Visions of him helplessly shaking as she sat atop him, veins in his neck pulsing and fingers digging into her working hips erupted behind her eyes, and she looked away from him as she slammed the breaks on those mental memories. Her brain recorded the feel of his hips desperately rocking between her legs as those images faded and she clenched her jaw.

Sylar's smirk widened while he watched her reaction.

He could see the blush in her cheeks, and the way her chest was rising and falling. He knew what she was experiencing on some level, feeling his awareness reach for her and his skin flush faintly. The stress in the room was heavy, coating every aspect of the air between them with a dangerous combination of anger, curiosity and sex. She sat stiffly, and he sat forced into a casual reclining position.

"Been having dreams Claire?" He asked her softly, and her head whipped around as her eyes locked on his and sparked dangerously. Curiosity and amusement danced on his features, and he lightly touched his gaze on the book before returning to her. If anyone could smirk with their eyes as well as their lips, this man could. It was such a turn on, and such an irritant at the same time.

"Do you make house calls to every unfortunate soul who has a dream about you?"

"Only when they're interesting. And yours are very interesting. Do you carry spare underwear in your bag so you can change after class?"

"Go to hell."

A hold slammed down onto her body, and she went rigid. He got up, towering over her as he stepped lithely over the coffee table and sat down beside her. He sat and just looked at her, twisting his mouth slightly as he examined her face. It struck her then that his facial expressions were...varied. In her mind, Sylar had about five expressions. Normal, mad, bloodthirsty, cocky and climaxing. And even then, she was hazarding a guess at the last one.

Despite the aura about him, he was normal guy to an extent. She looked back at him, eyes falling over the pale skin and the dark hair. The strong jaw was relaxed as he tilted his head and looked flatly at her.

He switched expressions so fluidly it was unnerving.

The only catch was all of his expressions carried one emotion on top of everything else. Curiosity. He studied and dissected, learned and understood.

Constantly.

Claire was caught as to whether or not this should turn her on, or freak her out. Her breath hitched slightly, and her mind burned as her muscles tightened for a different reason. His proximity was having unwanted effects on her, and she cursed herself and her recently acquired libidinous mind. He reached out, large hand going for her throat. She flinched slightly, trying to pull away to no avail. She felt the skin burn and shiver as his fingers touched her collarbones, sliding along her neck and grasping the clasp of the pendant necklace. His other hand rose and gently plucked the jewellery from between her breasts as the clasp gave.

When he moved his hands away, smiling dangerously at her as he took her necklace, Claire realized she'd been holding her breath and let it out shakily. He seemed to pause and his eye focused on the necklace in his hand. She watched the chain glitter maliciously as it slid between his fingers. Her brain conjured the image of her leaning forwards and taking on in her mouth, watching his reaction to that. Logically, she knew it wouldn't be favourably. He chuckled and her gaze snapped from his fingers and the delicious images they generated to his face, which had cracked into a youthful smile.

Claire blinked, noting his whole expression changed when he smiled, even if it was the slightly bitter grin that graced him now. He held it up, looking at her with both eyebrows raised.

"Peter gave this to you. It's almost pedophilic, but permissible given the fact that the both of you are too noble to do anything mildly entertaining," He told her conversationally, flicking a knowing look at her. She slit her eyes while he raised both eyebrows and continued chatting at the necklace, nodding to himself slightly.

"That family is merely hanging by a thread. A wonderful thread enforced by lies and dirty money, but a thread nonetheless. You need a good old fashioned scandal. Keep it in the family."

"That's disgusting. You have no idea what you're talking about," Claire snarled, and he made a sound that could have been considered a giggle if it hadn't come out of such a huge man. He looked at her with a genuinely amused smile, dangling the pendant freely and shaking it slightly as he sat up and faced her, leaning one arm over the back of the couch.

Then his face melted, dissolving into a serious expression that cause her heart to beat frantically and her pupils to dilate. The flick in his eyes let her know he noticed, and she could practically hear thousands of cogs turning in his head. It was like whenever he was around all you could hear was the distant ticking of clocks.

"But you have no idea what you're capable of, do you?"

She stared at him, completely lost. She was unnerved, because while certain parts of her anatomy wanted to throw him against a wall and mistreat him in the most un-ladylike of ways, her mind had decided his psychopath was showing. She gulped dryly, her mouth like cotton. Apparently all the water had run south, something she was determined to not acknowledge at all.

The fact that she was reacting like this in a situation like this was so completely beyond her that she was bound to end up in therapy about it for the rest of eternity.

He tilted his head, studying her with a bemused expression. She felt like a piece of meat, and she could feel him looking at her. He leaned closer, breath tickling her neck and his heavy scent invading her nostrils. Her eyes sunk shut as his body loomed closer to hers as his gaze caressed her neck and collarbones, smirk playing across his lips. She could feel the wall of heat hitting her and the way her skin seemed to beg for contact while her nerves shivered and writhed.

"I know what you are capable of. I know what you're hiding under all that hair. I've seen it. You should read your journal, Claire. Your mind is trying to tell you something."

"No."

"No? So, you just picked me for your elaborate fantasies...why? Do I have the right height leverage?"

"It was an accident."

"Ooops doesn't begin to sum us up."

"There _is_ no us."

"That's right. Because you don't see the parallels between us, do you?"

"Nope," She breathed. She sounded more confident than she felt, her instincts pushing for her to tilt her head and for him to touch her. The fact that he hadn't had her whole body on fire, and his velvet voice pouring into her ears was causing a red stain to creep over her cheeks and her heart to hammer hopefully. He smelled like outside and musk with the distant tinge of aftershave.

"Aren't you glad that in 2100 I'll be the only familiar face on this planet that isn't at risk of dying at a moment's notice? Tell you what, in a couple thousand years, meet me at the top of the Empire State Building. We'll watch the world end," He whispered, hot breath playing over the sensitive skin of her neck. She couldn't breathe, wound tight as a chord, and she didn't notice.

"We're spending so much time together, we should learn each other. What happens in a couple hundred years when no one knows how to push you? What happens what no one knows what makes your mind...," He raised a hand, fingers tips brushing over the nipple pebbled through her thin shirt and Claire's eye snapped open as she gasped and forcibly smothered the urge to arch.

"...tick."

"Ever considered a career as a car salesman?" She ground out, and sunk back against the couch weakly as his hold on her body released her. Sylar chuckled at her again, turning and pitching the necklace out of the room. She heard it hit the floor, clattering loudly and she winced slightly. He sat up and snapped up the book smartly, acting completely normal. Claire's body felt like mush while it weakly protested that lack of proximity. She sat up, glaring at him reprehensibly while he flicked open to a page. She caught the blue ink and set her jaw as she glared at the couch opposite her when she recognized the entry.

He massaged his jaw languidly, frowning slightly while he read over parts.

"You're a creative person, Claire. This only supports my theory," He added plainly, looking at her with a helpless shrug. She chewed on her inner cheek, ignoring him and the barbs. He turned a few pages, settling back and flipping idly. He looked up enthusiastically, pointing down at the page. She turned slightly to glare at him, loathing the joy he got out of this at her expense. If he was here to poke around in her head again, she wished he would just get it over with.

"Actually, my favourite is the cell. It's a side of you that should come out more. One that doesn't really look the best and excel, but just does things on instinct. Very carnal. Your Daddy would disapprove," He commented, biting down on a finger mockingly. Claire's upper lip curled into a sneer.

"You're one to talk. You're the murderous sociopath."

"My mother always said to be true to yourself. That could have contributed to her murder, but that's not up for discussion."

"Good, this isn't a support group," Claire snapped irritably.

The horribly amused smile that bled onto his face made her stomach jump slightly. That smile was the smile a cat gave a canary as it bared down on it. It meant that things were going to go very badly for the canary. She flicked him an annoyed look and he only raised his eyebrows innocently.

"If you're here to slice my head open, can you just get it over with? And preferably in the kitchen so it's easier to clean up," She added bitterly. The stains had never come out of the carpet at the old place.

Sylar moved like a shadow, looming into her as his hand swept up her neck and brought her mouth down on his. The shockwave that pulsed through her almost overrode the painfully pleasurable shudder as her nerves celebrated the feel of his mouth on hers. His lips were soft as they firmly commanded her mouth, manipulating it and sending both their bodies into different states of frenzy. The hand on her neck was huge and warm, pulling her against him as he pressed against her.

The reality of who she was kissing slammed into her, and with a muffled squeak she shoved him away.

A smug smirk bloomed, and her palm slammed across his cheek before she could process the do and don'ts of slapping murderers. Especially ones that were super powered with every annoying power known to man.

"Don't you even start. Just don't. I don't need this," She groaned at him.

"I disagree."

"I don't care," Claire cried, furiously facing him and jarring her hand uselessly against his shoulder, which didn't budge.

He looked slyly at her, and tilted his head to the side as he seemed to consider something. Alarm bells went off in her head automatically as the canary image came to mind. He leaned forwards, coming within inches of her face. He gave her a lopsided smile, hand running up her arm.

"Then try and stop me."

She shrieked as he grabbed her and she was tossed gently onto the floor, and slid off the couch and leaned over her. She struggled for normal breath as he leaned down on her and swept over her mouth. As his body slid gingerly over hers, she struggled to sit up with her mouth fused hotly to his. He nipped her lip, fingers pressing down her back and causing her to shiver. Involuntarily, she moved back as she kissed him furiously. A hand grabbed the back of her head and jerked it back, exposing her throat.

A strangled sound burst from her lips as he found the sweet spot in the join of her neck and shoulders. Her nipples seemed to twinge and she was hyper-aware of how heavy he was.

He parted, biting the edge of her bottom lip and causing her to jerk slightly.

"You know, you're not the only one with fantasies," He muttered breathlessly. He crushed her lips and she fought back harshly against him, feeling his breathing hitch and all the hard muscle pressed against her tense. She broke from him, reaching up and sinking her fingers through his hair and pulling.

"I don't want to hear that." She gasped at him as he pulled free and dominated her mouth, tongue teasing her lips. Angrily, she pulled back slightly and caught his lower lip in her mouth, sucking on the flesh. There was an auditory catch in his breathing, and she took that opportunity to bite down on him sharply.

He jumped, and an electrical spark bridged between them as he punished her back. Her lips were numbed momentarily, and she felt his tongue slip into her mouth and curl possessively. She battled back with her own, giving in to the urges waging through her body. She felt the success slide through him in the change in his body, and seized that opportunity to arch her body and throw him off of her.

Claire was up and skittering slightly as she vaulted out of the living room.

Sylar sat up, watching her retreating back. He concentrated, visibly working and then aimed at her retreating back.

"Claire," He groaned, and it slammed into her like getting a slap on a sunburn. She screamed as her nerves and muscles seized and released, giving way to the feeling of a miniature orgasm ripping through her. Her leg gave out and she cascaded sideways, choking for air. Surprise and embarrassment caught her for a few seconds, before she pushed herself up as she realized he was right on her heels. She got two steps before a hand wrapped around her upper arm and swung her around to face him.

She let out a noise of anger, frustrated slightly and shocked to the bone. Her free hand, with its curled fingers, sliced downwards over his face. He grabbed both arms and she noisily floundered for air as he breathed heavily and the cuts from her nails knitted together magically.

"Why are you resisting?" He asked her forcefully.

"Because you were less of an asshole in my head!" Claire shrieked back at him while her legs threatened to give out. She missed the look as his mind clicked, and was too tired to struggle against his grip anymore. Before she could process, he leaned forwards and pressed a soft kiss to her. Claire froze at the complete change from before, feeling his lips travel warmly over hers. Coaxingly, he tempted her with a gentle suck on her lip and a careful flick of his tongue. Claire melted like an ice cube, the apex of her legs giving a vicious throb as she leaned into him and his hands dropped from her arms.

She allowed him entrance to her mouth and he explored it softly, deftly flicking her tongue and testing it with his own. She kissed him back, falling prey to the screaming of her skin and the hard ache in her abdomen. Unconsciously, she pressed her body against his and her hands drifted to his jaw and head. He was so much taller than her that he seemed to be curled over her body protectively.

Claire kissed him firmly again, insisting on more than the gentle caress. A predatory smile spread over his mouth, and he bit her lip. Claire jumped at the pain, and moved her hand to pinch his shoulder. He seemed to enjoy it, sending a current through her mouth and causing her to make a sound of malcontent.

She flattened her hand and smacked him in the ribs with a hollow thud. He exhaled heavily as his body relaxed after her blow.

Claire shoved him gently, backing away from him. He remained locked with her, following her slowly. His hand slipped up her front, grasping her breast and rolling the nipple through the shirt. He sent a current through his fingers, and Claire couldn't help but moan. She thrust herself further into his hand, which he obligingly took. His free arm circled around her waist, and she felt one of her ass cheeks cupped and squeezed gently. She broke and traced the outline of his parted lips with the tip of her tongue before pinching his nipple through his shirt. They bumped into the wall at the bottom of the stairs, and Sylar used the hand on her ass to lift her slightly as he pressed her against the wall and smoothed his body against hers.

They both gasped slightly as she rubbed against a very prominent feature of his anatomy, which was begging to be released.

It surprised her again, the feeling of need that he gave off. He needed her, and all the evidence to support that fact was moulded against her right now, electrocuting her and causing her to pulse and want him in ways she'd never really felt before. She moaned again, and Sylar's mouth swallowed the noise as his hand gently pulled up the fabric of her shirt.

His finger found her bellybutton, dipping into it and pressing towards her spine. He broke from her and looked her in the eye as he wiggled the jewellery there. Claire didn't bother explaining the eclipse and healing, beyond the point of words. He smiled wickedly and crooked his finger downwards. Claire gasped slightly as a strange nerve embedded in her abdomen twinged pleasurably.

Gently, she smacked the side of his face, and he smirked and zapped her with the finger in her bellybutton. Claire jumped again, lips parting in surprise. His face was clouded, completely consumed by lust as he watched and studied her carefully. Claire aimed a forceful kick to the inside of his knee and then squealed when they both fell forwards onto the stairs.

Pain from the edges of the steps digging into her back momentarily paralyzed her, and she coughed as he moved over her again.

He gave her a dirty look and jammed both hands up her shirt, ripping the shirt over her head without much consent. His eyes were darkened, and his skin was boiling. Claire huffed at him, and reached between them to grab the hem of his shirt. He shifted and she missed, hand connecting with the hard ridge in his jeans.

He froze, and it was Claire's turn to smirk. Shyly, she caught his eye and gingerly felt him through his jeans. His hips moved forwards encouragingly, but he glowered at her impressively.

He took a deep breath and breathed throatily at her.

"Claaaiiire."

The sound whooshed over her skin and made goosebumps erupt. It bled through her ears in a pleasurable hiss and made her keen quietly as she arched under the administration of the power. He twitched a smirk at her, fingers running lazy eights up the skin on her sides and causing her muscles to shift and contract as they were tickled. She snagged the hem of his shirt and pulled it up roughly, catching it on purpose around his shoulders and head.

"I hate when you do that," She lied, and he twitched noticeably. She wiggled out from under him and backed up the stairs on all fours, hands slapping the wood as he struggled to get the shirt off and over his head. She reached the first landing and glanced back at him. He was watching her, stripped down to his jeans.

His long torso was riddled with muscle, from the bulge of his biceps to the faint abdominals and deep cut lines that disappeared teasingly under his low-slung jeans. Wide shoulders and a powerful chest tapered down into narrow hips upon which his pants sat. He took a step up the stairs and she crab-crawled backwards.

"I knew you would come for me. You're very out of shape. You'd make a fantastic blond," She lied frantically. Sylar twitched and shivered as every lie hit him like a softball, but it didn't slow his ascent towards her. Claire turned and bolted up the stairs, gaining as much ground as possible. She swung down the hallway and her hand had just closed upon the handle to her room when he slammed into her and they fell onto the door, which gave in.

She landed on top of him, and sat up to straddle his hips, swinging her hand down and letting a slap resound in the room. The only reaction she got out of that was him arching his hips up against her and giving her a sadistic smile. The look on his face announced he enjoyed the abuse and she ground down on him to punish him.

A strangled sound burst from his lips, and he gripped her waist to pull her down on him.

"I don't like this," Claire hissed at him, and felt something ghost up her back. Her bra unclasped itself and was torn roughly down her arms, dropped carelessly across the room telekinetically. Sylar's lips fastened to the peak of her breast before she could stop him, and she cried out and pushed against him as both fingers buried into his hair and held him to her.

Sylar zapped her with his mouth, chuckling against her skin when she raked her nails down his back and barked his name.

"You're a freakshow," She hissed, pushing him away from her and attempting to slide off of him. She grunted and struggled as he grabbed her ponytail and ripped the elastic from her head, causing her blond hair to tumble caustically around her shoulders as she stood up and rounded on him.

He held it up and cocked an eyebrow, turning it to gold and smirking at her. He clambered to his feet, and Claire yelled as she launched herself at him and they stumbled backwards into her bureau and he dropped the gold to grab her hips. Claire slammed his head against the doors and attacked his neck, dragging the inside of her lower lip along the ridge of his jaw and nipping his earlobe. His breathing was laboured, and she whined in pain when he slapped the skin on her back and drifted down to cup her rear. Easily, he lifted her and she slung her legs over his hips as she ran her tongue in wide circles down the column of his throat before biting down on the join of his collarbones.

"Ugh, Claire," He groaned as she arched her hips up and moved the seam of her jeans against him. He tweaked a nipple and then let her go, causing her to shriek and nearly fall flat on her ass. She caught herself and was bowled over before she could stand again, hauled across the room and bent over her desk. Books, pens, her phone and other various desk things including her laptop were sent crashing everywhere, but not before she got a hold of a pen and stabbed at him randomly over her shoulder. She gouged him twice before he flipped her over and mentally ripped the pen from her hand.

"That was considerate," She snapped, and he smothered her mouth with his as his fingers found the button and zipper to her jeans. Claire kissed him back, lifting her hips to assist him in getting the jeans off. She was wet, needing him to touch her so violently that it was like a silent chant in her head. She wanted the clothes to be gone and relief to come.

The pulled the jeans down and she frantically kicked her ankles clear as he slammed his hips suggestively against hers. Quickly, she undid his belt and snagged the link as he stepped away from her. She yanked it out of his pants, causing him to stumble slightly backwards. He hit the foot of her bed with his knees.

Claire smiled childishly, tilting her head to the side and biting her lip. He seemed to freeze for a second, and she thought she saw a slight awkward emotion flicker across his face. She dropped the belt, knowing she wouldn't be able to generate enough haul to smack him well enough anyways, and stepped closer to him.

He peered down at her, focused on her eyes. Sylar's eyes were deep pools and his face a mask of lust as she stepped close enough that her breasts brushed his chest. She found the button, lowered the zipper and let go, hearing the muffled 'phwump' as they pooled around his ankles. Almost hesitantly, he leaned down as she tilted her head up.

Her lips melded with his softly, almost apologizing for the abuse she inflicted on him. They stilled, Claire's hand braced gently on his chest and his hands resting lightly on the swell of her hips. She looked at him, breath splaying over his neck. His dark hair was mussed and tousled, lips swollen and he looked every bit as serious as someone at a funeral.

His fingers snagged the bands of her underwear and pulled them down slowly as he looked at her questioningly. Claire didn't respond, merely letting him push them down until they could fall by themselves. A sudden impish smile slipped onto her face and she gave him a hard shove. His knees bent, and he sprawled back over her bed.

"You're too tall, you're really creepy, and just so you know, I think this is totally healthy," She told him sweetly, crawling onto the bed beside him and swinging a leg over his torso so she could loom over him. He shuddered and grunted, frowning at her as she twisted her mouth up at one corner and nodded in agreement with her own lies.

He sat up, bracing himself on his elbows as the effect wore off and she tossed all of her hair over one shoulder.

"I thought encouraging you to be forwards or aggressive would be a challenge," Sylar sniped, lifting his hips so she could work his boxer briefs down. She slithered down his thighs, pulling his last article of clothing down after her and glanced up at him, focusing on his eyes despite the erection that flagged between them. She took that opportunity to bite his knee and he hissed at her. Claire sat up on her haunches and tossed her hair again, looking pensive and completely ignoring his crotch.

"I thought that too. I mean, I've always been a bit of a giver and not a taker. And you," She said, eyes raking over him almost critically. She shrugged. "We all know you're more the taking type."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Actually, I'm more surprised you haven't pulled that magical taser out from somewhere. It's normal form for you to try and kill me."

She smiled sarcastically at him.

"I probably left it in my other skin. I can try later though."

"Great," He commented blithely, gritting his teeth and hissing through them when she reached out and wrapped her hand around his shaft. She pumped him boldly, twisting her hand over the head and then plunging back down, only to come back up to the top and twist the other way. He dug his heels into the mattress, gasping and reclining so he could see. His hips thrust up erratically, meeting her hand and begging for a quicker tempo. Claire ignored it, pulling and pushing.

With a frustrated groan, Sylar sat up and grabbed her around the waist to throw her down on the bed beside him and muffle her squawk of laughter with his mouth as he crawled over her body. She laughed into his mouth, quietening as she kissed him back. Gently, he traced his left hand down her body, feeling the silky skin.

Claire shivered as his fingertips lit trails of fire and pleasurable itches, especially as it descended past her belly button, down the inside of her hip and up the inside of her thigh, gently pushing her legs apart. Something in her nervously questioned what was happening, but it was instantly quelled under the rage of his touch that was making her a slick wonderland. His hand drifted down her thigh, little shocks dancing from his finger tips. She arched up slightly, to no avail. She made a noise of frustration and scraped his tongue with her upper teeth.

His fingers danced down her slit until he found the opening, and she winged into his mouth as he plunged one finger in and drew it out just as quickly, repeating it with a second.

She held onto his head, spreading her legs wider and trying to coax him.

He rewarded her by slowly pressing two fingers into her, and she sighed as she stretched around them. His thumb found her clit, rubbing it circularly as he picked a rhythm and crooked his fingers slightly. Claire moaned, breaking away to breath heavily as she twisted and undulated against his hand.

He hit certain strong nerves in her clit, and they sent violent pings into her muscles as her legs twitched slightly and she breathlessly nipped at his lips. She arched against him, kissing him insistently and wiggling.

"Faster," She muttered.

"No," He mumbled back.

She made a noise between a groan and a frustrated sigh, reaching down his torso and grasping his cock. She jumped again as he circled her clit viciously and moaned a velvet sound into her ear that caused all of her skin to ripple and spark. Spitefully, she tugged him and spread the bead of precum at the tip with her finger as he breathed hotly in her ear.

She squeezed him.

"C'mon. Do it."

He muttered some sort of an epithet into her pillow, thrusting his fingers into her violently. Then they were gone, and she whimpered at the loss of delicious friction and he shifted over her and braced himself over her. She guided him, and frowned slightly when he reached down and lifted her left leg to trap it against his rib under his arm.

"We don't have to do this," Sylar said bluntly. She could feel the shake in his muscles and see the carefully constructed mask on his face. From the bed hair to the five o'clock shadow, she stared into the face that had haunted so many of her dreams and been the boogeyman to many a person's existence.

He didn't' look any different, with dark eyebrows and strong forehead and long face. He didn't sound any different, although his husky silk voice had gotten slightly tight and rough. Something in her twinged, and she realized that his face was the one she was going to see until the day she somehow managed to die for good.

And it wasn't something he'd been born with, it was something he'd taken from her. He chose it. He chose her.

She cocked her head to the side and imitated his eyebrow raise.

"What? Are you afraid it's going to be awkward the next time you try to kill my family members?"

Genuine amusement shone through in his face and he shrugged.

"Potentially."

She smirked at him, and pulled his face down to kiss him chastely. She caught his face between her hands and whispered her favourite lie.

"I want you to be gentle with me."

His eyes rolled back slightly and she felt the deep shudder that ran down his spine. She arched and he pushed into her, causing them both to groan and their nails to pierce into each other's flesh. He leaned closer, biting her neck gently as her arms encircled his shoulders and he began to move. Claire moaned, turning her head and sucking his ear lobe until he claimed her mouth and moved in her.

She sighed, feeling a spark jump through her nipples as her rolled them between his fingers, and the scrape of her teeth on his skin. He pulled her leg up higher, angling himself deeper and she bit her lip and whimpered as the friction built and he started hitting another spot, deeper inside her.

He grasped her hips and lifted her slightly. She heard words falling from her lips, but had no idea what she was saying, stumbling through words or encouragement. His fingers slid in her folds, finding her clit and giving it an unsure rub. She used her hand to guide him around, and he followed her lead, sparking her occasionally. She dug her right ankle into his butt as he worked and she watched the play on his face as she her body coiled tightly, screaming with success.

He kept hitting nerves, plus the friction, plus the deep massage within her. The roar of orgasm built in her head, and she whimpered for him to keep going, her head pressing back into the pillow as her eyes slid shut and she felt like she was climbing uphill in a rollercoaster. A warning shudder surged through her, and she helplessly bit down into his shoulder as she came apart and her muscles seized.

Claire's cry was muffled by his shoulder, and she clamped down around him forcefully, her walls seeming to squeeze and pull as she shuddered.

She felt him thrusting, and relaxed slightly as she came down, but was still suspended in the feeling of him moving in and out of her.

He cupped her jaw and forced her to look at him.

He clenched his jaw and she watched a tiny shudder sink his eyes shut.

"I -," He started, and then grunted and pounded into her before burying his face into her neck. She felt the shaking intensify, and heard the bellow into the pillow and her skin as he came. He quivered and then was still, relaxing on top of her. Claire's skin was singing and if her muscles could smile, they were doing so contentedly.

He pulled out of her and lay beside her with a delicious smirk.

Claire let out a huge breath and glanced at him, finding him smirking with his eyes shut, one arm thrown over the bottom of her ribs. They were sweaty, tangled in a pile of smooth tanned skin and dark hairy legs.

She snuggled down and looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

He smirked into her shoulder, biting down on it lightly.

"Stop staring at me," He muttered.

"I'm not. I'm just wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"Nothing."

"You're wondering if you just made the biggest mistake of your life. Don't worry. I'm sure it'll all blow over when your Dad dies."

She looked at his contented face, and even though her body simmered with sleep and content, she was astonished and fighting a giggle. She frowned and smacked him lightly on the forehead.

"I remember why I don't like you," She commented, and he merely inhaled sleepily and lifted a shoulder as he pulled her closer.

~*~*~*~

Luke got out of the cab, slamming the door and tossing his little money onto the passenger seat. He leaned down.

"You're sure?"

The cab driver nodded, and put the car in gear, pulling away from the curb. Luke glanced up and down the street, not spotting their car. He glanced up at the house, which was mostly dark except for the lower levels, and the purple sky as the sun set in the distance. He stretched, sore from his journey from the middle of fucking nowhere.

And he looked in the most recent phonebook, finding no Bennet. After asking around, and some particular sleuthing on his part, he found an address here.

Which, in his opinion, was better than a park bench.

He sighed, stomping up the driveway and onto the front walk that led up to the impressive door. Impatiently, he rang the doorbell and waited. A wind picked up, and the tropical trees on the warm street blustered, blowing hot air around. A dog barked somewhere in the distance but aside from that, the street was eerily silent.

He straightened as he heard footsteps, a light tread of barefeet on wood floors. The lock clicked, and the door was tugged open noisily. Luke froze as a gorgeous blond girl looked at him questioningly, hair pulled into a messy bun and wearing a t-shirt with short red shorts and no bra. He was going to have fantasies forever.

She looked at him, smiling hesitantly and raising her eyebrows.

"Hi. Can I help you?"

He cleared his throat, brushing his hair back.

"Uh. You don't...happen to have seen a guy around. Or know him. Know him, uh, a friend. Sylar? You know a Sylar?" He asked, tripping over his words. The green in her eyes was only brought out by the blond hair and the smooth tan. And the adorable smile. She seemed to jump as a bark of laughter came from somewhere deep in the house.

She glanced over her shoulder and looked back at him with a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, actually. He's in the kitchen," She told him softly, stepping aside and letting him into the house. He shut the door after himself and she gestured for him to follow her down the hall. Luke did, scoping out the way the shorts bent and clung to her ass cheeks. She led him into the kitchen, and Sylar was leaning against the counter in only a pair of jeans.

The girl scooted up onto a barstool and wrapped her hands around a glass of orange juice.

Luke froze, staring at them. He put two and two together and his jaw fell open.

Sylar pointed at the girl and then to him.

"Claire, this is Luke. Luke, this is Claire."

Luke couldn't stop staring.

Sylar gave him a dangerous smirk and crossed his arms.

"This is my invincible girl."

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**Hey y'all. **

**This was the grand finale! I am so saddened and depressed that this has to end, and that this story will no longer have fun, raunchy sex. I will be putting out other stories of course, so no worries there. If any of you are wondering what Sylar was doing to Claire's bellybutton with his finger, it's a scientific fact that there are nerves in your bellybutton directly connected to your clitoris (if you are female). Go ahead and try it. Stick your finger in your bellybutton, press all the way to the back and wiggle the tip in a reverse come-hither motion, pressing down towards your legs. Play around with it, see what happens. ;D**

**Special thanks to Courbeau, for letting me wake her at 3 am to edit my chapters, and putting up with my Almighty Syndrome and bad typos. You are the ooh to my aaah and I couldn't have done it without you. Thanks to all of my other friends, who put up with invasive questions, long and detailed explanations and embarrassing re-writes of their various sex lives. Special thanks to Marvin, FEF and Mal, who all pointed me in the right direction, pitched ideas, gave me detailed descriptions of the male orgasm and everything before that, and inspired me to keep writing. **

**Also, thank you to my reviewers. My readers, reviewers, fans, haters, and those couple thousand people who only read the first chapter. I couldn't have done it without your dedicated support and appreciation, and I can't wait to write for you all again. **

**Please feel free to contact me for any reason, and check back to my profile for other delicious stories and one-shots that will soon be hitting cyberspace. I could not have done this without you guys, the love is never ending. **

**What was your favourite chapter? I'd love to hear fav lines, chapters and moments. **

**Love you all! **

**READ, READ, AND REVIEW! ( hart! )**


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